


The Mistletoe Curse

by Joeybelle



Category: Logan Lucky (2017)
Genre: But this is a Christmas fic and we all know how those go, Christmas Party, Clyde is a Sweetheart, Commissioned Art, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Eventual Smut, Eventually some intentional nudity, F/M, Faeries are bitches, Fanart, Fluff and Smut, Hangover, How Do I Tag, Humor, Irresponsible Drinking, Minor car accidents, Mutual Masturbation, No penetrative sex, Oral Sex, Romance, She's trying really hard not to be a disaster, Smut, Unintentional nudity, christmas tropes, minor accidents, mistletoe kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-09-26 05:25:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17135810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joeybelle/pseuds/Joeybelle
Summary: I'd never heard of mistletoe faeries before Earl mentioned them, and to be fair, I had a feeling he was kidding me. However, even I knew that if you accidentally find yourself under the mistletoe with someone - Clyde in this case - you must kiss. But a kiss on the cheek would be enough, right? Right?Wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 'Tis the season for all the cheesy Christmas tropes to be dusted off and reused. I can never get tired of them, so yeah, this happened. It was meant to be much shorter, but I think by know you all know me. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it. Make sure to leave some cookies out for Santa and maybe one for me too!  
> Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas!
> 
> Now with art from the amazing [@void.dust](https://www.instagram.com/void.dust/) and [@formerly-anonhamster](https://formerly-anonhamster.tumblr.com/)

[](https://ibb.co/NtTfY0Y)

Art by [@void.dust](https://www.instagram.com/void.dust/)

I’d never really been into decorating and stuff until I started working at the Duck Tape. Sure, I’ve always had a tree for Christmas and a couple of skeletons or a cobweb for Halloween, but since it was just for me and my family or college roommates, it felt like a waste of time and energy to put them up just to take them all down a couple of weeks later. 

But at Duck Tape, it was different. When Clyde first showed me the storage where they kept all the decorations, I was speechless. There was just so much stuff! I had no idea how all that could be used in only one building without having to throw everything else away. But then Easter came and the spring decorations were put up, and then Halloween and the place was turned into a house of horrors and I loved it. From then on, I was counting the days until we could start putting up the Christmas trees. 

To everyone’s surprise—mine included—I really had a knack for decorating, and I was quickly crowned the queen of decorations. Really, I had a crown and all. So most of the work fell on my shoulders. And I absolutely loved it. 

I started working at the Duck Tape in spring, after I lost my previous job. It wasn’t a great period for me, no one in my field was hiring and I was getting desperate so when I saw that the bar in town had an opening, I jumped at the opportunity. Only for a few months, I told myself, until I found something better. I wasn’t qualified for this kind of job and I quite expected them to kick me out after the first couple of weeks, but the owner and the staff were very nice and patient with me. So as time passed, I forgot to look for a better job. 

I’d known Clyde Logan from high school, but we were never friends. We wouldn’t usually cross paths and if we did, we’d say hello and move on. So I was surprised by the ease with which he accepted me as part of the staff and his willingness to help me out when I really needed it. He didn’t have to pay me in advance when I was worried about my bills or lend me his car when mine broke down. But he did it anyway, asking for nothing in return. So I wasn't surprised to find myself falling for him more and more with every passing week. 

But right now, I was more worried about the literal aspect of the falling, as I felt the step ladder shift from under my feet. My whole life flashed before my eyes while I flapped my arms around trying to stabilize myself, but I couldn’t regain my balance no matter how hard I tried. I was already bracing myself for the fall, accepting the idea of spending Christmas in the hospital, when the ladder stopped moving. 

“Be careful,” Clyde said, miraculously catching it before I tumbled to the ground, potentially injuring myself. I managed to grab onto his shoulders and I found myself staring into Clyde’s worried eyes. 

“I’m fine! I’m fine,” I babbled, trying to reassure him, although my heart was beating a million times a minutes and I was still holding onto his shoulders for dear life. My hands were shaking. “I’m fine…” He was looking at me with concern written all over his face, but there was a gentleness to his features that made me feel safe. Maybe it was just the scare—I knew that one strong emotion can blow another one out of proportion—but I was pretty sure that was the exact moment I realized I was head over heels in love with Clyde Logan. 

Also, I realized we were quite close to one another, in the awkward position we found ourselves in. I had my hands still securely propped onto his broad shoulders and I knew that if I’d let them slid down his back I could fall into his embrace. He’d probably hold me. Then we’d be close enough that I could brush my nose against his and invite him to kiss me. But I knew something like that was just a beautiful daydream. 

His voice snapped me out of my trance. “I’m not letting you use this ladder anymore,” he said, looking away with a slight blush. I wondered if my expression gave me away and he could have guessed what I was thinking about.

“You’re under the mistletoe,” I heard Earl shout from place he was sitting at the bar. “Now you’ve gotta kiss.”

Right. We were under the mistletoe because that’s what I was doing before nearly falling to my death, hanging mistletoe in the middle of the dance floor, so that people had a legitimate reason to kiss. Not that they needed a lot after tasting Clyde’s shots, but it was part of the decor. And now we were under it. I felt my face start to burn, so I looked away. 

“It’s not Christmas yet,” I yelled back at Earl, who had a huge grin on his face. 

“Don’t matter. The faeries will get you if you don’t,” he said. “You don’t wanna anger the mistletoe faeries.”

I looked down at Clyde, who seemed just as flustered as I was. “Faeries? What Faeries? Is that even a thing?” I asked, trying to hide my own embarrassment behind a mask of confusion.

“I don’t know,” he whispered back, but didn’t move away. 

“It’s a thing,” Earl declared matter-of-factly. “You don’t wanna make them mad.”

I really didn’t want to annoy the faeries. I wasn’t sure they existed or not, but the stories always said not to anger them. And I knew something bad would happen to you if you don’t kiss while under the mistletoe, and I really didn’t wanna tempt fate. After all, Christmas was just around the corner and I was hoping to have a good one. Also, this would be a really good excuse to get a kiss from Clyde. I’d always wanted one, but kept my mouth shut, fearing the rejection.

There had been flirting, mostly on my part, but he would usually respond. However, I wasn’t sure he ever took me seriously. I wasn’t sure he understood that the way I acted around him was different from the way I joked with everyone else, because most of the time his replies seemed like he was trying to be polite instead of you know, actually flirting back with intent. There had been a couple of instances when I knew for sure he was into it, but those happened when we were both drunk after a long shift and were never mentioned after that. So I really had no idea what to think. And that’s why I chickened out. 

It was the perfect opportunity to get a kiss from Clyde, guilt free on account of the faeries. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t want to annoy them either, since I knew he was a little more superstitious than myself, but I just couldn’t get myself to do it. Not with Earl grinning at us with a beer bottle in his hand and with one of the girls singing off pitch carols in the kitchen so loud you could hear her from the parking lot. I kept looking at him, my hands still propped on his shoulders, waiting for him to make a move. To give me a sign, anything that would let me know if he’d like a kiss or not. But he just blushed a furious shade of red and looked back at me, not saying a word. 

I dipped down, encouraged by Earl’s cheers and kissed Clyde on the cheek. It was just a quick, innocent peck, but I still felt like I was on fire. He smelled of his usual cologne, but because of the closeness I was becoming hyper aware of it. I pulled back and stepped down the ladder, before I got carried away. 

“What was that?” Earl asked, laughing at me. 

“That’s the only thing the faeries are getting,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “Can I take a five minute break?” I asked Clyde, who was still violently blushing and looking anywhere but in my direction. 

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, and he seemed just as lightheaded as I was. 

“I don’t think that’s enough,” Earl yelled after me, as I stepped outside the bar. 

The weather was frigid and I wasn’t dressed properly to be out in the snow, but I needed to cool off and this seemed like the best option. I instantly started shivering, but I gritted my teeth. I had nearly kissed Clyde Logan. Part of me was still in shock that it happened, and another part was angry that I didn't take the opportunity to do it properly. I was a coward. 

The door behind me opened with a creak and I turned around to see Clyde holding his coat in his hands. 

“It’s cold,” he mumbled, placing it on my shoulders with insecure hands. 

“Thank you,” I replied, and once again I was filled with love for the man standing awkwardly by the door. It was little things like this that made me fall for him and reinforced those feelings. I regretted once again that I didn’t kiss him properly, because the urge to do it now was almost overwhelming.

“Well then,” he mumbled, looking like he was about to freeze himself, “don’t stay out too long. It’s cold.” 

I smiled, wondering if he was just looking for a pretext to talk to me, but then I could feel my heart sinking when he turned around to leave. “Clyde,” I said, making him stop and look at me. “Thank you for not letting me fall, that would have been quite painful.” It wasn’t what I wanted to say, but how do you tell your boss that you’re in love with him and would really like a kiss? You don’t.

“No problem, don’t worry about it” he mumbled, passing a hand through his hair and looking at the ground. “I’ll go back now, it’s cold.” 

And like that he vanished, leaving me alone. His departure seemed a bit rushed so I wondered if he’d actually realized that I liked him and was now trying to get away from me as fast as possible. The thought filled me with dread. I knew there was no way he would like me, after all, I was just me and there wasn’t much to like, and I knew I should have put more of an effort to keep my feelings hidden. Now there was this nagging feeling that even though no words had been spoken, I had somehow been rejected. I pulled the coat closer to myself, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne and sighed.

For the next week, Clyde Logan avoided me like the plague, which only reinforced my hunch. Once I noticed it, I made sure to be in his way as little as possible because I didn’t want to seem like I was forcing myself onto him. But it really hurt. My heart would sink every time I could see him turn around and leave once he noticed me, the way he made himself busy whenever I was near. I actually considered taking the week before Christmas off to cool down, but unfortunately, the fucking faeries happened.

I had no idea that Christmas had anything to do with faeries, but Earl was adamant that they existed, and were related. I knew there was something about elves, but I was no expert in Christmas traditions, so I didn’t argue. And apparently, my refusal to properly kiss Clyde under the mistletoe had upset them, so I was supposed to expect them to get revenge on me. At first, I was convinced it was just Earl mocking me, but as days passed and things started to happen, I was starting to believe him. 

It started innocently at first. Things happened to go missing or get misplaced, other things got broken when you touched them, but we all blamed it on a very busy holiday season. Everyone was more tired than usually, so mistakes were bound to happen. Then one of our coworkers fell off the ladder while hanging some Christmas lights at home and had to have his leg in a cast for at least a month, which left a whole shift to be covered by me and Clyde. This meant we had to spend even more time together and I wouldn’t be able to take any time off. So everyone was overworked and tired and started doing even more mistakes.

To everyone’s surprise—not mine—I was the worst of them all. It was like I wasn’t able to do one thing right. Glasses slipped out of my hands and shattered on the floor, I was fucking up even the simplest drinks to the point where Clyde had to look over my shoulder to see what I was mixing which of course made me more flustered and prone to mistakes. I even dropped an opened bottle on my foot, getting a bruise and dousing myself in champagne at the same time. At least I hadn’t broken anything. Yet. The night was still young.

“It’s the faeries,” Earl let me know as I was sitting on a stool at the bar, holding an ice pack over my swollen foot. “They’re starting to play tricks on you.”

I scoffed and shook my head. “There are no faeries, Earl.” My clothes were wet and sticky and I smelled of champagne, my foot was in pain and I really didn’t feel like hearing anything about faeries. 

“I hope you can say that after they’re done with you.”

“It’s my own fault for being clumsy and distracted.” I knew that, indirectly, Clyde was to blame for this, because I was hyper aware of his presence around me and completely oblivious to everything else. So of course mistakes were bound to happen when all I could think about was the wasted opportunity to kiss him. If he was going to avoid me, at least I could have gotten a kiss out of that. Instead I got angry faeries. There are no faeries! “I’m gonna go change, before more people start pouring in,” I said, limping to the changing room.

I opened my locker and to my surprise it was empty. Except for my shoes, my bag and my winter coat, every other item of clothing was gone. I could feel myself starting to lose it. 

“Hey, did anyone go through the lockers?” I asked one of the waitresses that had just come in. 

“Yeah I think they took the laundry. Why, are you missing something?”

I groaned. “I had a spare uniform in here that was clean. And where are the rest of my clothes?”

“I don’t know,” she said, peaking over my shoulder. “Mike was tasked with the laundry.”

“Mike!” I yelled, rubbing my temples. Mike was a teenager that we hired part time during the summer. He needed some extra money and Clyde offered him a job. Since then, he’d still come during the weekends and sometimes when we were really busy to help us out. He was a really nice kid, although a little distracted at times. 

“Yeah?” 

“Did you take my clothes?” I said pointing to the empty locker.

“Yeah, Mr. Logan said to put everything in the washer.”

“Even my street clothes?”

“What?” He seemed a bit confused.

“There were two piles of clothes, folded.”

“Yeah, black.”

So that was the problem. I facepalmed. “Just because they are black doesn’t mean they’re a work uniform.”

“Oh my god!” He covered his mouth with both hands and his cheeks lost colour. “I’m so sorry.” 

I shook my head. My other colleague was laughing her ass off. “It’s okay,” I sighed. “Nothing to do about it now. Does anyone have any extra uniform?”

“Nope,” she said, looking into her own locker, still laughing. “He washed everything. But don’t worry, your clothes will be washed and dried before the shift ends.”

“I need something to change in now,” I said, picking at my drenched top that kept sticking to my chest. “I have champagne between my boobs.”

“Well then find someone to lick it off,” she laughed, earning a glare from me and a friendly slap over her shoulder. “I know someone who’d gladly do it.” I stared at her in confusion, but didn’t say anything. 

I went to the bathroom and tried to pat my clothes dry as best as I could, but they kept sticking to my skin, making it itch. I washed my face and any exposed skin that had made contact with the drink, but I still felt dirty and uncomfortable. On top of it all, my foot was still throbbing, and I knew it would only get worse after a couple more hours of standing. This was going to be a really long night, I thought, looking myself in the mirror. 

I returned at the bar, hoping that time would somehow go faster. 

“You didn't find anything to change in?” Clyde asked me once I was back. 

“No,” I sighed. “Mike laundered everything. Including all my clothes. Hopefully they will be dry by the time I have to go home otherwise I will have to plough through the snow naked.” That wasn’t true, of course I would go home in my uniform, but it felt just as inconvenient.

“I’m sorry,” he said and stopped what he was doing, looking at me with a worried expression that instantly melted away my anger. 

“It’s okay,” I said, putting on my most reassuring smile. “It’s no big deal.”

“Aren’t you cold?” I shook my head, but he fished a key out of his pocket. “Go to my office, if you look though the closet you’ll find something clean to change in.” I could see him starting to blush as he spoke, and I was pretty sure the same was happening to me. 

“Thank you.” I took the key. Part of me knew it was polite to refuse, but I was so uncomfortable that I really couldn’t say no. “Thank you so much. I’ll be back in a minute,” I said, but he was already tending to some customers. 

His office wasn’t unfamiliar, so I knew where everything was, but it was the first time I was rummaging through his closet. I was a bit hesitant to look through his stuff, even though I had permission to do so. It felt like I was crossing some sort of boundary, but I had to remind myself that he wasn’t just my boss, he was my friend. And friends borrow each other’s clothes, right?

I quickly found a clean, neatly folded shirt that I knew wouldn't fit me, but I had no other option anyway, so I took it. There was nothing I could do for the lower part of my body, there was no way I could make his jeans fit me, but at least the top wouldn’t stick to my chest anymore and I wouldn’t look like a wet bird with ruffled feathers anymore. 

I went to the bathroom, cleaned up and put the shirt on. I’d lie if I said I never imagines what I’d look like in one of his shirts, but the context of that daydream was a bit different. I felt my cheeks start to flush as I buttoned up the shirt over my chest. It was huge, but I did my best to try and make it look okay. After a lot of tying and tucking and rolling of sleeves I managed to make it functional. Clyde would probably judge me for what I did to his shirt, but I would return it washed and ironed, so he had nothing to worry about. 

The only thing that really annoyed me was that because it was too much shirt to just tuck into my jeans, I had to tie it above my waist and whenever I’d lift my hands a part of my midriff would be on display. Well, I’d have to live with this inconvenience for a few hours. It was still much better than the champagne drenched top that was sticking to my boobs. 

I hurried back behind the bar, handing Clyde the keys and thanking him once again. He nodded and went back to work, but I could see him stealing glances every time I’d try reaching the higher shelves. And by the way he became flustered every time I caught him looking I was starting to think it wasn’t just to make sure I didn’t drop anything on my head. Safe to say I wasn’t that mad about the shirt anymore. 

But this wasn’t an isolated incident, so I couldn’t just call it a bad day and move on with my life. It was a series of unfortunate events that somehow got more and more annoying. And dangerous, I might say. And even if Clyde was always there to save my ass, it only made the times when he seemed to avoid me even more painful. Like that time when I slipped on the ice, nearly breaking something.

It had been a surprisingly cold night followed by a snowy morning and Clyde and I were unloading things from Jimmy’s truck. We were in a bit of a hurry because we were a little behind with everything, so I didn’t really pay attention to where I was stepping. Not that I could see every strip of ice hidden under the fresh snow anyway. I had slipped a couple of times, but I managed to regain my balance in time, promising to be more careful and then slipping again. Clyde was looking at me with a worried expression on his face, probably expecting disaster to strike any minute. And he was right. 

“I’m fine,” I said, returning for another crate of supplies, although he insisted once again that I stay inside and let him do the unloading. Unfortunately, I was being stubborn. “It’s not like a little ice is gonna kill me.”

Boy, was I wrong, because as I said that my foot slipped from under me and the only thing I could do to stop me from falling was to grab onto Clyde’s sleeve and drag him down with me. He caught my elbow and tried stabilizing me, but his foot slipped on the ice too, so we spent a few seconds in and awkward, disjointed dance before spinning around and falling in the snow, me on top of him. Luckily it wasn’t the way around or it'd be attending my own funeral right now. We groaned in unison, laying in the snow for a few seconds, before I realized that I was actually on top of him, so I panicked and tried to get up, only to slip again and smash my face into his chest. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, as if he wasn’t the one that had hit the ground in order to break my fall. 

“Yeah,” I mumbled, making another effort to get up. This time I managed to prop my hands on his shoulders and lift myself a little, so now I was awkwardly straddling him. 

He was laying there, hair splayed in the snow, snowflakes catching in his dark strands. He looked flustered, with his lips slightly parted and a little out of breath, cheeks tinged with red. He was so beautiful that I almost forgot how to breathe. If this was any other situation, or if I were braver and he wasn’t my boss, maybe I would have tried kissing him. But unfortunately, I was still me, so I just stared at him dumbfounded for a few moments before realizing that I could just roll off of him, instead of trying to get up.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, covering my face. I was now laying on may back in the snow next to him, my face burning with shame. 

“It’s alright,” he said and I could hear him getting up, the snow crunching under his feet. “Need help?”

I uncovered my face and looked up at him. There was no doubt he was blushing, it wasn’t just the cold. He was looking away as he lent me a hand and pulled me up, so I felt really bad for embarrassing him like this. 

“Look, I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright,” he said, still not looking me in the eye. “But you’d better head back inside, I don’t want you breaking something before Christmas. I’ll finish unloading the rest.”

“Okay.” I knew he was well-intentioned, but it still stung. It was bad enough that I was feeling like a walking disaster, I really didn’t need him to treat me like one. I opened my mouth to say that, but no words came out. He still had his back turned to me, so I headed inside. Mike was diligently sweeping the floor, proving that ‘no ma’am, I wasn’t looking out the window until a couple of seconds ago’. I shook my head and went back to work. 

And somehow after that it only got worse. I reached my breaking point one day when the espresso machine malfunctioned, spewing boiling hot water all over my hands. I ran to the bathroom, shut the door behind me and broke down crying with my hands under the running faucet. After about five minutes of ugly sobbing I managed to collect myself, wash my face and come out. 

Clyde was waiting for me in the small hallway, looking worried. I knew he was too polite to just barge after me in the bathroom, but I still wondered if he’d heard me cry through the closed door. I really didn’t want him to see me like this, so I made an effort to smile. 

“I’ll take you to the hospital,” he said once he saw me, fear and worry visible in his eyes. 

“It’s alright, I’m fine,” I said, showing him my hands. The skin was red and a couple of blisters were already forming, but I knew it wasn’t serious. 

Clyde opened his mouth, ready to argue I assumed, but then looked me in the eyes, and just nodded. I must have looked just as pathetic as I felt. “At least let me patch you up,” he said. 

“Thank you,” I said, following him to his office, where he sat me on a chair as he searched for the first aid kit. 

He applied a disinfectant and a local anesthetic for which I was very thankful, because my hands hurt like hell. He then started bandaging. He was a bit clumsy, having to do everything with only one hand, so I had to help him out, but the gentleness with which he was doing it made my heart melt. There were days like this when I was feeling really down and his care and attention made everything better. By the time he finished with the bandaging I was feeling a little better.

“I think you should take the rest of the day off,” he said, putting away the kit, and I felt my heart sink once again.

“But I don’t want to go home,” I whined. “It’s gonna be a busy day today. I can wear gloves,” I pouted, despite my efforts not to do so. At least I didn’t burst into tears. 

“Don’t worry about that, we can handle it. I already called someone to pick up the espresso machine and get it fixed before any other accidents happen,” he said, putting the first aid kit away. “I want you to go home and rest.” 

I could see how worried he was and I was fearing he’d get an ulcer from all the stress I seemed to be causing him, so I decided to do as he said. 

“Okay,” I said, after a long and dramatic sigh. “But I don’t like it.”

“Okay, I get that,” he nodded. 

He left and I sat there on the chair for a few more minutes, looking at my bandaged hands and unable to move, feeling like a sad sack of potatoes. I was cursed. I denied it, and then denied it some more, but I was starting to believe it. In all those months that I had been working at Clyde’s bar, I had never been that clumsy and unlucky. So yeah, I might have been more tired than usual, and a little more distracted by Clyde, because I was in love with him and I was sure he didn’t return my feelings; and of course I spent most of the day hyper aware of his presence, overthinking every little gesture, stressing every time I felt he was avoiding me. But it couldn’t be all my fault, could it? No, it was the faeries. 

So of course, after I changed I stopped to chat with Earl on the way to my car, the only one who seemed to have any idea what was going on. 

“So, those faeries you’ve been talking about,” I asked, trying to not give away my desperation. 

“They been getting you good these days, isn’t it?” he laughed, and his cheerfulness was becoming a little irritating.

“I don’t think they exist,” I said, trying to salvage a little of my dignity, “but if they did, how would I be able to make them leave me alone?”

“You have to give them what they want and they’ll stop,” he said, with a knowing smile on his face. 

“What on earth would a faerie want?” I asked, my face scrunched in confusion. 

“I don't know. What might a mistletoe faerie want?” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Whatever that is, the should leave me alone. At this rate I’ll lose my job before Christmas.” I sighed. “I’ve been relieved of my duties today.”

“Don’t hold it against him,” Earl said, lighting up a cigarette. “He’s just looking out for you.”

“I know, that’s why I’m doing what I’m told,” I said, and waved goodbye. 

On my way home I kept thinking about what Earl said. What would the faeries want from me? Obviously I had offended them by not kissing Clyde, but there was nothing I could do about that now. If I could turn back time I’d smooch him until he’d be out of air, but unfortunately time travel wasn’t one of my specialties. There must be a way to restore the good relations between the fairies and me. So I started googling. 

Apparently, the only mistletoe faeries I found were on Etsy, so I was pretty sure that Earl was just shitting me. But looking at my burned hands I really didn’t wanna take any chances so I googled ways to appease generic faeries. And I found a lot of crap. Most of the advice said to leave them offerings like: champagne in walnut shells (what’s wrong with champagne glasses, also why champagne?), organic chocolate (emphasis on organic), organic mushrooms (again organic), organic berries, bird seeds (???), crystals (an-organic, I assumed) and a lot of other stuff that made no sense to me (moon water). 

I had none of those at home, unfortunately. I only drank champagne to celebrate and there wasn’t much to celebrate nowadays, my chocolate was just plain store bought chocolate and I doubted they liked that, the mushrooms were canned and who the fuck had fresh, organic berries in December? Certainly not my broke ass. So I begrudgingly crawled to the supermarket. 

I came back with everything—except champagne, I didn’t have money for an actual bottle of authentic Champagne and by the tone of the articles on the internet, they didn’t like anything less than the best— and I set up a tiny shrine on the windowsill. I arranged everything nicely, because I had a feeling that faeries like pretty things, closed the window and pulled the blinds to give them some privacy, and went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short, but this felt like the best way to divide it. I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas if you're celebrating or an awesome few days if you aren't. Lots of love!

It was peaceful for the next few days, so I had a feeling the offerings might have done the trick. Clyde had insisted that I take a couple of days off so I had time to heal properly before coming back to work. Christmas was getting closer and he said he would really need my help the week leading to it, so I didn’t argue. I had some things I needed to do for myself, so I was really thankful, if a little guilty, for the time off. 

Also, there was the annual Christmas party. Clyde always kept the bar closed a few days for Christmas, letting all his employees spend time with their loved ones, but on Christmas Eve he would hold a party for friends and family. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a nice, cozy gathering. He would be providing the drinks and everyone else would bring something to eat, and they’d share. I’d never been invited to one before, so I was very excited. Everyone was talking about it and now that I was working at the Duck Tape I was considered family and automatically invited. 

I had volunteered to help Clyde clean the place and set everything up before the party, since I had no other plans that day, but right now I was starting to doubt that it was a good idea. First of all, we’d be alone, and I was sure it would become awkward. Before the mistletoe incident I would have had absolutely no problem spending time alone with him. I really loved his company and he seemed a lot more relaxed when there were less people around. But our relationship had changed a little in the past month. I kept feeling he was avoiding me and I was afraid it would be awkward with just the two of us alone. I had been looking forward to that day close to a month now, but now I was starting to have second thoughts.

I wasn’t even sure he’d want me helping anymore, since whenever he found himself alone with me in the same room he’d bolt out the door before I’d have time to say anything—unless he was actually saving me from whatever disaster I’d caused that day. But it would also be a great opportunity to actually talk and clear everything up, because I really didn’t like this. It was one thing to not return my feelings, but avoiding me really hurt. No matter how he felt about me romantically I knew we could still be friends, and I wanted him to know that too. Or it was all in my head and he wasn’t avoiding me and I was worrying for nothing. Either way, some things needed to be cleared up before I’d get an ulcer.

But there were still a few days left until Christmas, and I still had the faerie problem to deal with before I could deal with the Clyde problem. Because surprise, surprise! It wasn’t over yet. 

I was mistaken when I thought that it was over just because nothing happened while I was at home. It seemed the faeries were concentrated around the Duck Tape, because once I was back, it started again. It was a little better, I wasn’t as clumsy as a few days back, so I knew I was doing something right with the offerings. That, or I wasn't as tired anymore and I could actually focus. But I was still blaming the faeries just to be sure. 

I figured I would place the same offerings around the bar too. So I did that, sneakily at first, prompting everyone to think I’d gone crazy over the break, because why else would I have been carrying bird feed and crystals in all of my pockets? Earl was laughing his ass off, and Clyde looked a bit confused, but sympathetic. Especially one day, when I was attacked by a bunch of pigeons on the porch as I was placing the bird seeds in the makeshift shrine. 

“What are you doing?” asked Earl, when he finally managed to stop laughing long enough to speak. 

“Offerings, for the faeries,” I said, thanking Clyde for the shot of whiskey he poured me. “The internet says they like these things: organic chocolate,” I said, counting on my fingers, “Champagne, but I don’t have that, organic berries, mushrooms, crystals… birdseed… What else?”

“Not these faeries.”

“Your faeries don’t exist, Earl. I googled.”

“Then who’s messing with you?” I didn’t have anything to say so I just kept my mouth shut. “I told you, you just have to give them what they want and they'll leave you alone,” he said with a wink, heading for the exit. “You’re smart, you’ve got to figure it out.”

“Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?” I asked Clyde, who was leaning over the counter. 

“Uh…” he muttered, looking anywhere but at me. “No, I have no idea,” he said, and something in his tone made me think he was lying, which was strange, because I could swear he’d never lie to me. He turned around and he was gone before I could actually study his face, leaving me incredibly confused. 

The rest of the week was pretty eventful, with the highlight being on the last day when I nearly flambéed Clyde. Luckily, he got out of it mostly alright, with only a tiny bit of his beard missing. He didn’t seem very upset about it, but I was already planning to leave the state in a haste, never to be seen again. 

Fortunately for everyone involved it was the last day before the Christmas break. After we closed, the staff stayed for one more glass of something, the ones that wouldn’t come to the party the next day wished each other Happy Holidays, before heading out into the snow storm outside. We had decided to not exchange gifts this year, since it usually added extra pressure on everyone, but most of them still exchanged Christmas cards. I had a present for Clyde, wrapped nicely at home, but I didn’t have the courage to give it to him. Maybe I’d save it for his birthday. 

After closing and locking the door, I collapsed onto a bar stool. 

“I quit,” I said in my most pathetic voice.

“What? Why?” he asked, taken completely by surprise. He sat on the stool next to me. “Did anything happen?”

“I’m gonna set your bar on fire. Or worse,” I whined, resting my forehead on the counter. “I’m just a disaster, you’d be better off without me.”

“That’s now true and you know it,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. I grumbled and he pulled me into an one armed hug. “I don’t wanna hear anything about it. I want you to come to the party tomorrow, have fun, then rest a few days and come back after the holidays.”

“What if the faeries will still be here when I come back?” I mumbled. 

“Then we’ll have to do something about them.” 

I lifted my head from the counter and turned around to look at him. He had this really determined frown on his face and I couldn’t help but smile. “And what do you propose we do about it? Because I am all out of ideas, and I’m not calling an exorcist.” 

He also smiled for a moment, then got up the stool and became really flustered, nervously passing a hand through his hair. “Umm… we could try with Champagne?” he shrugged. 

I burst into laughter. “You know just as little about faeries as I do.”

“Yeah. But it’s worth a try,” he said and went behind the bar, looking on the shelves for a bottle. 

“Hey!” I said, pointing a finger at the bottle he took out. “Put that back. That’s worth more than my monthly salary.”

“So?” he asked, staring at the bottle with the most unimpressed look on his face. “It’s worth a try,” he said, placing it under his arm to open.

“You can hire another waitress with that money.”

“I don’t want another waitress.” My heart jumped, and it wasn’t from the sudden pop of the bottle opening. He got out a couple of glasses and placed them in front of us.

“Shall we taste it first?” he asked, pouring a little bit of champagne in the glasses.

“Sure, why not?” I said, taking my glass and looking at the bubbles. It was probably the most expensive sparkling wine I’d ever drank. “Gotta make sure it’s the best quality.”

He smiled and it was like this whole nightmare had vanished and we were once again just as close as we’d always been, no awkwardness between us, no tension. We toasted and savoured our drinks in comfortable silence and then we left a glass for the faeries near the Christmas tree. The rest of the bottle I placed in the fridge. 

“I’m gonna make mimosas tomorrow,” I said, feeling really giddy. “We’re gonna be drunk before the party even starts.”

“That sounds good.”

“Do you still want me to come tomorrow to help out?”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course. Did you change your mind about that?” he asked, and although he had his back turned on me I sensed the disappointment in his voice. 

“Nope. But I might burn your bar down, so be prepared with an extinguisher,” I said with a smile. 

“Well, it needs renovations anyway,” he said, looking around. “But hopefully the Champagne will work.”

“I hope so,” I said, hopping off the barstool. “I’m sorry for setting you on fire today.”

“It’s alright,” he said, scratching his beard.

I took a few steps towards him, studying the damage I’d done. He didn’t shy away from my touch when I passed my fingers over the spot where hairs had been burned off. 

“It needed a trim anyway,” he said in a soft voice, and I let my hand travel up, cupping his cheek. He looked me in the eyes, for the first time in a while and I felt weak under his gaze, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. 

There was a whirring sound followed by a loud thud that reverberated through the empty bar, making us both jump. I followed Clyde to the front door, waiting in the doorway as he went outside to check. 

“It’s just the snow falling off the roof,” he said, coming back in with snowflakes caught in his hair. “It’s been snowing pretty heavily the past few hours, I think you better hurry home before the roads get blocked. 

“Okay,” I said, a little weary. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Yeah, I just have to close first. You go ahead, and we’ll meet tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

I grabbed my stuff and ploughed through the snow to my car. It took a few minutes of digging to find it under the white blanket, but eventually I managed to get out of the parking lot. 

The road had been cleaned, so I breathed a sigh of relief as I drove away, but even so there was still enough left on the streets to make it look like I was trapped in a white hell. It was a little scary, I thought, watching the big snowflakes that kept falling on my windshield, before being dragged to the side by the wipers. 

As I drove, the moment I had with Clyde before the snow interrupted us—I felt like that was on the faeries as well—kept coming to mind and my heart jumped. It was one of the most intimate moments we had shared until then, because he didn’t really like physical contact that much and I knew to keep my distance. I was surprised that he didn’t brush my hand away, and instead leaned into my touch. It was so strange that he had seemed to enjoy it, after days and days of outright avoiding me. Maybe it was time to talk. It was definitely time to talk.

I actually knew the exact moment my car hit an icy strip on the road. I could feel how my hands on the steering wheel did absolutely nothing to maintain the direction, so I took my foot off the gas pedal and let it slide. I wasn’t going fast so the car glided for a while, then stopped in one of the snowdrifts gathered on the side of the road. 

I let out a long breath, and got out of the car to check the damage. Everything seemed okay, the snow absorbing most of the shock, so I got back in and put the car in reverse to try and get it back on the road. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t want to. It seemed like my car was pretty well embedded in the snow, the wheels were skidding and the car wasn’t moving and inch. I huffed, cursed myself, the snow and the motherfucking faeries and got out of the car. I fished a shovel out of the trunk and started shoveling. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I had to do something, I couldn’t just sit in my car and freeze to death. 

Clyde found me fifteen minutes later, sitting in the snow, completely resigned to the thought that I would die frozen and miserable. 

“What happened?” he asked, and I don’t think I’d ever seen him that scared. “Are you alright?” He took my hand and lifted me from the snow, looking at me like he was trying to convince himself I was still in one piece. 

“I’m fine. Seriously, I’m fine,” I said, trying to sound reassuring. “I just lost control and got off the road, but I’m not hurt, and my car seems fine. But now I can’t get it out.”

After he made sure I was actually okay, he got behind the wheel and tried getting it out, but wasn’t any more successful than I was. The wheels kept spinning, but the car didn’t move. 

“I’ll call Jimmy to bring the truck and pull it out,” he said, fishing the phone out of his pocket.

“No, Clyde, don’t! It’s late, let him sleep. I’ll have someone drag it out tomorrow, don’t worry. It’s on the side of the road anyway, nothing will happen.”

He looked at me, then at the car, and eventually he sighed. “Okay. Give me the keys and we’ll come and pick it up tomorrow.” The determined look on his face made it very clear that he didn't want me to argue, so I handed him my keys and got into his car. 

We were mostly silent after that. I was defrosting, ashamed and a little scared that the faeries had followed me home and they seemed to be getting more aggressive. But I was also tired and stressed and a little distracted, so that could also be a reason. 

I glanced at Clyde and remembered once again the moment we had that evening. He was looking ahead, his strong profile outlined in the dim light. He was so beautiful, and I was so in love with him that I had to shove my hands deep into my coat pockets so I could resist the urge to just tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. I wanted him to know how thankful I was for him always taking care of me and that he was the only reason I didn’t lose my mind the past week, but unfortunately I just couldn’t find my words.

We were getting pretty close to where I lived when the car made a strangled noise before coming to a halt and my heart almost did the same. I looked over to Clyde and he returned my panicked gaze. 

“This ain’t good,” I said matter of factly, as Clyde turned the keys in the ignition and the car just refused to start. 

“Don’t worry, it’s gonna work,” he said, but I could see he wasn’t that convinced either. 

I was oddly at peace. If I was going to die in the snow, dying alongside Clyde would probably be the best way to go. But I was feeling really guilty. He was too young to die trapped inside a car, the night before Christmas. And it was my fault. The faeries or the curse, or just my bad luck, they were all affecting him by proxy, so if it weren’t for me he’d already be home, snug in bed, ready to sleep. 

I looked at Clyde. He had moved on to talking to the car stage of desperation, whispering pleas while gently stroking the steering wheel. I felt a pang of jealousy the moment he called her ‘baby’, and I made an effort not to laugh at how stupid that was. 

“My place is really close, like 20 minutes walk. We could leave it on the side of the road, and make the rest of the way on foot,” I offered, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be pleasant. But we couldn’t wait in the snow either. “I have a couch.” He looked at me, but I couldn’t read his expression. “We can figure out tomorrow morning how we’ll get our cars back.”

He looked outside for a moment and nodded. “I wanna try pushing it first,” he said, getting out of the car. “If that doesn’t work, we’ll walk. Can you come behind the wheel for a second?”

It was still snowing outside, but at least the wind had stopped. It was almost pleasant, with big, fluffy snowflakes falling out of the sky, and if I hadn’t been that tired I would have enjoyed walking home with Clyde, especially if at some point he’d decide to hold my hand. But I got into the car as Clyde started pushing. I turned the key in the ignition, but the car only whined pathetically. 

“Come on you bitch,” I whispered as lovingly as I could between gritted teeth, while turning the key in the ignition once again. The engine started with a whirr and I jumped with excitement, smashing my fingers on the car’s ceiling. “Who knew you liked dirty talk,” I said, a huge grin on my face, just as Clyde was getting in the passenger seat.

“What?” he asked, eyes wide, cheeks flushed from the effort.

“Nothing, nothing,” I said quickly, hoping he didn’t think I was talking to him. “Do you wanna switch places?”

“No, it’s okay, you drive.”

Nothing else happened on the way home, so I pulled in my driveway, leaving the engine running, just in case it wouldn’t want to start again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to spend the night? I wouldn’t want you to get stuck in the snow on your way home.” I asked, dragging my feet through the snow. I smiled, and hoped the worry wouldn’t show through, “My couch is pretty comfortable,” I added quickly, so he didn’t misunderstand. It was just a friendly offer, after all. There was no ulterior motive. 

He looked at me, then at the car, and seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind. “I don’t think I should…” he said, taking a few steps towards me. The headlights were illuminating him from behind, making him look even more massive. I felt safe in his shadow. “It’s gonna be a long day tomorrow,” he continued, rubbing his neck. “You need to rest.”

“Okay,” I said, not wanting to press him. “But please text me when you get home, so I know you’re safe. Otherwise I’ll come looking for you armed with a snow shovel.”

He laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll text you. Don’t worry about me.”

“And thank you. I owe you one for saving me once again.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, heading to his car. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Clyde. See you tomorrow.”

I waited for him to get into his car, but he seemed to change his mind and in two huge steps he covered the distance between us and I found myself engulfed in his warm embrace. I was a bit surprised, but welcomed it wholeheartedly, hugging him back. “Goodnight,” he whispered. “Stay safe.”

He hurried back to his car and I waved him goodbye, still frozen in place. Once he’d pulled out of my driveway, I skipped to my house, giggling like an idiot. Two moments of intimacy in one day? And none of us was drunk? That was new. Suddenly I had forgotten all about the faeries, as I got rid of all my clothes and got into the shower. 

The message saying that he’d arrived home safely came about ten minutes later. I texted him back goodnight and crawled into bed, falling asleep almost instantly, phone still clutched in my hand.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year guys! I hope this new year will be better for all of us. Love you all.

The next morning I woke up feeling surprisingly refreshed. I looked out the window and I was amazed by how beautiful everything was. Fresh snow covered everything, almost blindingly white in the morning sun. Everything except my car. I rubbed my eyes to convince me I wasn’t seeing things, but the car was still there. I grabbed a jacket and ran outside, still dressed in my nightwear and only wearing slippers. I cursed loudly when my feel sunk into she fresh snow, screeching in shock as my ankles and toes froze instantly. 

There was a note under the windshield wiper. _‘Fished your car out of the snow, kiddo. Left the keys in the mailbox, I hope that’s ok. Jimmy. PS: My brother scratched it, not me. Yell at him.’_

I laughed and looked around the car for any scratches, but there were already a few of my own doing, so it didn’t really matter. It was in much better condition than I had expected, especially after I’d crashed it last night. And I was so happy and pleasantly surprised that I woke up and I found the car already in my driveway. I recovered my keys and ran back inside before my feet froze off, and started getting ready for the party. 

It was a potluck party, so everyone was expected to bring something. I had a tin of assorted cookies already baked and decorated, and I ended up making enough meatloaf to feed half the town. I figured it would be enough. If not, we could always make something quick at the bar, since we had a kitchen on site. But that would be something for Clyde to decide. 

I chose a cute outfit for the night. It wasn’t anything flashy, as I knew it would be a casual evening and I didn’t want to be overdressed, but I still wanted to look nice so I chose something that I knew would look flattering. I packed everything into a bag and got dressed in my usual jeans and sweater, because I knew there was a lot to clean and prep and wash, and I didn't want to ruin my outfit before the evening even started. Besides, I was already a nervous wreck. 

I had debated the whole day and in the end came to the conclusion that I had to clear things up with Clyde, and it had to be done today. I didn’t want to go into the new year with all that emotional baggage, and since we would be alone before the party this seemed like the best opportunity to talk it out. The awkwardness and the mixed signals were starting to get to me, so I decided it was time to clear the confusion once and for all, even if that meant a rejection. I had a few days off for the holidays, I’d have enough time to binge on sweets and cry until I got over it. Or so I hoped. 

I packed everything and drove to the bar. To my surprise, Clyde’s car wasn’t in the parking lot, but there was a car that I recognized to be Mellie’s and another unfamiliar one. I knew Clyde should have arrived already, but maybe he had gone to pick some things up. It didn’t matter, I knew how to let myself in. 

A wave of giggles welcomed me as soon as I entered the door. Mellie was surrounded by a few unfamiliar faces, laughing and chatting nonchalantly. This was pretty unexpected, since Clyde specifically told me there was no one else coming that early. This made my whole plan of spending some time alone with him to discuss the issues between us pretty hard to pull off. That really curbed my enthusiasm.

I looked around for him, and found him behind the bar, washing some glasses. Judging by the pout on his face, he wasn’t really happy about something. 

“Hey,” I said placing the box of food on the counter. “Everything alright?” It seemed like he had already started getting the place ready, because all the mess we’d left the night before had been sorted out and the place looked squeaky clean. I was a bit disappointed, if I’d known, I would have come a lot earlier to help. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, but he sounded a bit off and I wasn’t convinced. 

“What happened to your car, I didn't see it in the driveway?”

“Uhh…” He was starting to panic, I could feel it by the way he was trying to find a way to escape my gaze. “I caught a ride with Mellie. Her friends from out of state are visiting and they wanted to come earlier to get something to drink and maybe help out.” 

“Oh,” I said, and I was sure I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice. I knew it was ridiculous, but I felt like the reason he asked only me to help was because I was at least a little special, and now that other people were here I was just another waitress. “Still, why’d you make her come and pick you up, that’s quite the detour.”

He swallowed and looked away as he spoke. “Well… my car broke down last night. It’s going to need some repairs before it can run again.”

“Oh no,” I said, covering my mouth. “But you did get home okay, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I did. I did get home okay,” he quickly said, still fidgeting. I knew he was lying so I raised an eyebrow. “Eventually.”

“What?!” I didn’t realize I had raised my voice, making Mellie and her friends stop talking and turn to look at me. “You texted me saying you got home alright,” I whisper-shouted, propping my elbows on the counter and tiptoeing so I could get closer to his eye level. Clyde, on the other hand, seemed to be shrinking under my gaze. 

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he said, his voice surprisingly high pitched. 

“So you lied to me.”

“What? No! I mean yes, but just because I didn’t want you to worry,” he added quickly, fumbling with something behind the bar. “I was afraid you'd come with a snow shovel… It wouldn’t have helped anyway. It’s better that you didn’t worry about it. I’m sorry.” He looked really apologetic, and I knew I couldn’t stay mad at him for long. However, I was still hurt that he’d lie to me about something like this. What if something had happened while I was sound asleep. What if I woke up in the morning and found out… No, I really didn’t want to think about it. 

“It’s alright.” I sighed. “Just give me ten minutes to worry retroactively and I’ll be fine.” 

I went to say hello to Mellie and her friends while I was still annoyed at Clyde. They looked like the’d already tasted the punch a few times and were really giggly, but I couldn’t judge them. I really I needed a drink too, but decided to leave it for later. I was pretty sure the faeries wouldn’t give me a break today either, so I needed to at least be sober enough to deal with them. 

But I didn’t like the situation. I had been stressed the whole morning because I’d made up my mind to use this opportunity to talk to Clyde before Christmas, and now it seemed like it wasn’t even possible. I wondered if he invited his sister and her friends here especially so that he wouldn’t be alone with me. That thought made my stomach constrict painfully. I poured myself a shot of something strong once I was back at the bar and downed it before starting to pull out some plates. 

Clyde and I worked really well together. The way we didn’t need to use a lot of words to coordinate was probably the reason why he often called me when he needed help, despite being one of the newer employees. When we really set our mind to it, we definitely got shit done. And it was something everyone knew and admired, even Mellie, so she didn’t try to intervene. 

“Shouldn’t we help out?” asked one of her friends while I was setting some tables on the side of the dancefloor where we were supposed to place all the food. “Since we’re drinking for free and all…”

“No. Let them do their thing, we’d only be in the way,” Mellie replied, refilling the glasses.

“How long have they been dating for?” asked another friend, and the only reason I didn’t comically break anything is because the plates were already securely placed on the table. 

“What? They’re dating? Since when?” asked one of them, followed by a giggling fit.

“About six months,” Mellie said and I was lucky to have my back turned to her, because I had turned a violent shade of red. “They just don’t know it yet,” she added. 

There was more laughter so I dropped everything and headed to the bar, needing another drink. I was pretty sure Mellie had noticed my infatuation, but it wasn’t the best day to have it proven to me. Or have it rubbed in my face. I knew that wasn’t her intention, but it only heightened my anxiety. Clyde was currently dragging some more tables, so hopefully he hadn’t heard anything. This was definitely not the way I’d want him finding out I had a crush on him.

“Everything alright?” he asked, seeing me rush to the bar. 

“Yeah. I just need a drink. Do you want anything?” He nodded and followed me. “Hey, is the champagne bottle still in the fridge?” I asked, my face breaking into smile, suddenly remembering the bottle we’d opened the night before. I was really craving some mimosas, now that I remembered. 

“No,” he said, his pout making an appearance again, followed by a frown. “Mellie’s friends found it earlier and finished it. I tried telling them I was saving it but they didn’t listen.” 

“It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” He looked dejected and I really wanted to reassure him, but my voice sounded icy despite my best efforts.

“I’ll open another one,” he quickly offered and I knew he was capable of wasting another bottle of expensive champagne just because I was craving mimosas. 

“Another time, maybe,” I stopped him before he could jump over the bar and grab one from the shelf. “When we have something to celebrate that’s worth my wage in liquid form.” Somehow that seemed to dishearten him even more and I instantly regretted my words. 

“Okay,” he said, looking down, and I hated myself. 

“But I’m really looking forward to that Christmas punch everyone was talking about. And I also heard something about eggnog, and I’d give up any expensive champagne for a good eggnog,” I said, patting him on the arm. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Another round of boisterous laughter made me glance at the group of friends crowded around Mellie and felt a wave of annoyance wash over me. I couldn’t hate Mellie, I would gladly share anything with her, but the other people I didn’t know, and didn’t really care about. On any other day I would have shrugged it off, but it wasn’t my best day (or week, or month), so I was a bit irritated by their presence. First they invaded my space, on the one day I had planned to spend time alone with Clyde, then they drank my champagne. Next they would try to steal my man, and it would all be complete. ‘My man’. I snorted, and grabbed the nearest bottle of alcohol and poured myself a glass. 

“Rough day?” Clyde asked, signing to me to pour him a glass too. 

“Not the best of weeks, as you might have noticed,” I said, with a weak smile. I really wished it was just the two of us right now, so we’d both be able to unwind a little. I could see him being a lot more rigid than usually, and I couldn’t help the feeling that it was my fault. 

“Want to talk about it?” he offered, taking his glass. “You don’t have to, of course. But if you think it might help, I’m here.”

“Actually, yeah…”

“Clyde!” his sister yelled. “The jukebox’s not working, what’s wrong with it?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he said, turning around to look at her fiddling with the controls. “Don’t do that. No! Don’t! Wait,” he said, taking a few steps in her direction before turning around to look at me. 

I smiled and nodded. “I’ll prep the other tables in the meantime,” I said, downing my drink. The talking would have to wait. 

And wait. Because something always came up. There were just too many people for either of us to be able to open our mouths and talk freely. When we finally took a break and stepped outside for a second, Jimmy pulled up in the parking lot and we had to help him unload some stuff. Then Sadie showed up and any hope of privacy flew out the window. When everything was prepped and ready, I checked the time and realized that people should start showing up soon so I had to change. I was already on my fourth drink, and by the looks of it, it was just the start. 

I changed in the locker room. I was thankful for the full sized mirror Clyde had installed, so I could make sure everything was in order. My outfit looked really cute. It was festive, but not too over the top and it fit me nicely. It was in my style, but more polished, something I always wished I had the money and patience to wear more often. I spent more time than usual on my hair and makeup and I was really pleased with the result. 

The music was a little louder and I could hear chatter as I came out of the back room. It seemed people had already poured in while I was getting ready, so I sneaked past the bar, hoping to be able to disappear into the crowd. Bumping right into Jimmy wasn’t planned. 

“Well, look at you,” he said, taking a step back to admire my outfit. “If you weren’t already family I’d ask you out.”

I laughed, pretty used to the way Jimmy jokingly flirted with me and all the other waitresses. We all knew he didn’t mean it, but it was a fun game we played. 

“Sorry to tell you, but I have faith in my parents’ devotion to one another.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he laughed. “Hey Clyde!” he yelled, his voice covering the music, making Clyde and about half of the people crowded in the middle of the bar turn to look at me. I almost ran away, but Jimmy caught my hand and didn’t let me escape. “I have a girl here that really needs someone to fix her a drink. One as sweet as her.”

I tried to get away once again, but Jimmy kept pushing me in Clyde’s direction. Eventually I surrendered to my fate and just walked over to Clyde. 

“I’m being told I need a drink,” I said with a smile. “Is it really that obvious? Is it written all over my face?”

He just gawked at me for a moment, before recollecting himself. “No, I think you look beautiful.” I must have blushed a million shades of red because I heard Jimmy chuckle before leaving us alone. “Uhh… would you like something to drink?” Clyde asked.

“Yes, please,” I said and followed him to the bar. 

Clyde must have changed as well, because he wasn’t wearing the same shirt as he did before the party. I could also sense a hint of cologne as I walked behind him and his hair seemed neater too. But it didn't matter to me since I found him just as attractive after a day of work, when his hair would be tangled from running his fingers though it too many times, and his shirt stained by water and soap from washing too many glasses. When he’d finally sit down on one of the chairs and close his eyes, and you could see the fatigue on his face as he enjoyed the silence after a busy day. 

I was smiling when I sat at the bar, my mood considerably better. Maybe we didn’t get to talk before the party, but the night was young and I was sure I could steal him away for a couple of moments of privacy. It was a party I had been excited for quite some time, so it would make sense to try to enjoy it. 

There were punch bowls placed on the counter, as well as some other festive drinks. I knew Clyde would be mixing shots from time to time, but it seemed a little early for that. However, he still walked behind the bar. 

“Uhh… so what can I get you?” he said, pointing towards the punch bowls on the counter with a dissatisfied look on his face. “Or would you like something different?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say no to something special,” I said, leaning in, making use of my best smile. “As a reward for managing not to burn the place down today.” He smiled and took out a bottle of whiskey and the shaker. I didn’t really care what I was drinking. The alcohol I already had in my system was making me pretty open to any of the available options, but he’d spend more time with me if he made me something from scratch, and I was selfish like that. Yes, it was his party and I knew he was expected to act as a host, but I wanted him to spare a few moments for me too. 

“So, have you decided what you’re gonna do tomorrow?” he asked, pouring some alcohol into the shaker. There was no secret that I had absolutely no plans for Christmas, we’d talked about this before.

“I don’t know. Family’s away on a ski trip so I’ll be meeting them after Christmas. I’ve been invited to several different get-togethers and dinners, but I don’t think I’m gonna be going to any of them. I really feel like I need at least a day to just rest, you know. Stay home and unwind,” I said, playing with a napkin. The usual plain white ones had been swapped for some festive napkins that really complemented the decor. 

“Sorry for making you come and help out.”

“Oh shut up, I helped because I wanted to, and you know it. You can’t make me do things against my will. Besides consider it a thank you for saving my life once again and getting my car out of the snow. Oh, snap! I forgot to thank Jimmy,” I turned around in the chair looking for him, but he seemed to have vanished. “I’m an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it. He won’t be going anywhere.”

“Yeah,” I said, throwing another glance over my shoulder, before focusing my attention back to Clyde. It was always fascinating to watch him mix a drink, and even after so many months of working alongside him, I still found it almost hypnotic. “How about you?” I asked. “What are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Well, Jimmy’s gonna be spending Christmas with Sadie and her mom and Moody and Mellie’s probably gonna go out with friends,” he said, looking at where they were sat at a table. He didn’t seem very happy. “I don’t know. I’ll just stay home I guess.”

“Do you wanna come over to my place?” I asked, before realizing what I was proposing. “Watch Netflix in pyjamas and ignore everyone while we stuff our faces with junk food?” I knew it could be interpreted like I was asking for more than just spending a day as friends, but honestly, I was fine either way. I knew I’d enjoy Netflix with Clyde with or without chill. 

I noticed Clyde had stopped what he was doing, but I kept my eyes glued to the napkin I was folding between my fingers. I feared that if I blushed a little harder, I’d combust. 

I was forced to look up by a lady loudly yelling Clyde’s name. He frowned in her direction, visibly displeased. A bunch of ‘I haven’t seen you in a really long time’ and ‘you’re a grown man now’ and ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ made me think she was family. I was starting to feel a little out of place, so I got ready to get lost, before Clyde quickly strained the contents of the shaker in a glass and placed it in front of me. 

“Sorry, I’ll be back in a second,” he said, and rushed to guide ‘aunt Margaret’ away from the bar and the punch bowls. 

I took my drink and tasted it. It was stronger than I had expected, but it was really good. It tasted really Christmassy and I was a little greedy, so I quickly drank it. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t garnished or strained properly (something that I knew wasn’t Clyde’s style, but was understandable given the situation). I wondered as I was waiting if he had used his aunt as an opportunity to get away from me. This was one way to be rejected, I supposed. 

Either way, I waited. And I tasted the punch as I waited. And the eggnog. And when he still didn’t show up I mingled a little. Found Jimmy, thanked him for the car, shared a drink with him too. Then by the time Clyde showed up handing shots, the world was already a little blurry and I was smiling like an idiot. Clyde really outdid himself with the holiday drinks and I was basically delaying a heartbreak so I wasn’t really concerned with how much I was drinking. 

But I promised myself I was going to talk to Clyde before Christmas to clear the confusion. Then I’d have time to heal over the break, moping at home and crying at chick flicks. Unfortunately—and I had a feeling the faeries were to blame, because they’d been surprisingly absent, probably fearing that I’d snap their little necks if they did anything—whenever I tried to talk to Clyde his attention would always be stolen by someone else. A picture here, not enough drinks there, another group of friends coming to say hi. Either that, or he was still avoiding me. 

At some point I had made up my mind—and alcohol definitely helped—to just go to him, grab his good arm and drag him to the side. I was already pretty tipsy, so I didn’t think it would be weird. I drank another shot to strengthen my resolve and walked up to him, only to be nearly knocked to the ground by a lady holding something above her head. 

“Look what I found,” she said in a sing song voice, leaning on Clyde’s shoulder, wiggling a piece of mistletoe above their heads. 

“Mistletoe,” he said, looking up at her hand, eyes wide and blushing, and I just turned around and stormed off in the opposite direction. 

I could feel tears starting to form and I blinked repeatedly to try and stave them off. I had a little bit of pride left to not start crying in the middle of the dancefloor, but not much. So I did the next best thing—or at least, what my already inebriated brain convinced me was a good idea—and grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the counter, the one that Clyde had left forgotten from my cocktail and took a swig. 

I scurried to the side of the dancefloor, because I was a bit ashamed of my efforts to get mindlessly drunk, but no one else seemed to be, so in the end I started mingling again. I toasted with Earl who was really sweet complimenting my appearance, was lifted by Jimmy on his shoulders for no discernible reason and nearly got my head smashed on a beam, danced with total strangers in three—me, them and my bottle of bourbon I assumed, I couldn’t read properly at this point—all in all, I had a great time. My bottle got a cute, red bow around its neck and I stole someone’s Santa hat. Occasionally I’d see Clyde moving in my direction so I’d do a 180 and run away. I didn’t care about him anymore, I was in a committed relationship with my bottle of whiskey. 

Eventually I ended up outside, sitting alone on the wooden railing, staring at a piece of mistletoe hanging above my head. Why was it there? I didn’t remember hanging any mistletoe outside on the porch. The reason why I was in this shitty situation. If I knew I had any semblance of balance left, I would have climbed up to just take it down. Maybe I could try anyway. 

The door opened with a jingle and I turned to look at it. Oh lord almighty, it was Clyde. I had nowhere to run, but I could just lean backwards and fall into the snow, hopefully disappearing until spring.

“What are you doing outside?” he asked, a frown appearing on his face. “I’ve been looking for you. Fuck, it’s cold.”

“I needed some air,” I said, with a wide hand gesture that nearly projected me in the snow. 

“Be careful.” Clyde’s hand felt incredibly warm on my back as he stabilized me, and only then did I realize that I was actually cold. I shivered, prompting Clyde to take off his coat and drape it on my shoulders. “You’ll freeze,” he said in reply to my protests. 

“Good,” I said, but still pulled the coat closer to me. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, looking really concerned. 

Was I alright? I snorted. A part of me was really confused, the other was starting to get angry. “Oh, I’m great!” I said in a voice that could have been considered bitchy if not for the slurred words and my slight tendency to sway. “Like, December’s been a blast! Almost literally. Did I set anything on fire?”

“No, you didn’t,” he said and grabbed my elbow, so I wouldn’t fall. 

“Hm, that’s a pity I guess. It could have been something cool to be remembered by,” I said with a sniffle. Fuck, it was cold. “Now I’ll just be remembered as the girl who’s gotten shitfaced drunk at the Christmas party.”

“Everyone’s drunk,” he said in a gentle voice. “Haven’t you seen Jimmy?”

“You’re not drunk.”

“I have to take care of everyone.”

I pulled onto his shirt making him step closer to me. My head was spinning and I wasn’t feeling very well. It must have been the faeries. “Will you take care of me too?” I asked, lazily leaning my forehead on his chest.

“Of course.” He fixed the jacket on my shoulders and I looked up at him. Fuck it, how much I just wanted him to hold me. 

“Like in general, not just today.” My knees were pressing onto his thighs, so I spread my legs, letting him move a little closer. “Did anyone tell you how cute you are?” I said, placing my hands on his chest, spreading my fingers over the dark coloured fabric. 

“Uhm… no?”

I giggled. “They’re stupid,” I said, with all the conviction of a drunk person. “Cause I’d tell it to you every day.”

“Really?” He looked at me as if it was the first time he’d seen me and my heart sunk. 

“Well, yeah. Is that weird?” He seemed to be at a loss of words his face turning bright red and that was the moment I realized what I had said and started backpedalling. “Of course that’s weird! What the fuck am I saying?” I laughed and looked away, trying to make it sound like a joke, but either the faerie curse or the alcohol had loosened my tongue. Dangerously so. “Can you imagine me saying that to you before the shifts start? ‘Good morning Mister Logan, you’re looking smoking hot today!’” I said, not looking him in the eye, the devil possessing me to speak. “‘That shirt is looking particularly tight on those pecs today.’ Did I say that out loud? I’d have to be drunk to say that out loud. I’d still think it though. I mean I do think it pretty often,” I said mostly to myself. 

“You do?” he asked, prompting me to look up at him. “Do you really call me ‘Mister Logan’?”

I snorted. That was the only thing bothering him? “Sometimes?” I said, poking a finger at his chest. “I do call you a lot of things in my head.”

“Like what?”

“I could tell you,” I said, suddenly feeling hot and bothered. “But you’ll have to kiss me first.”

I grabbed down onto his shirt and held him close. I wasn’t confident, I wasn’t confident at all. I might have blurted it out, but I was almost shaking. It was now or never. 

He just looked at me, as if he was trying to decide what to do. With every passing second I was losing hope, tears already forming in my eyes. “Not tonight,” he whispered in my ear, pulling me into a hug.

“Why not?” I mumbled against his shirt. 

“Because you’re drunk and it wouldn’t be right.”

“Oh no, don’t. I’m not that drunk,” I said and slipped out of his embrace. 

“Let me take you home.”

“I don’t want you to take me home,” I whined, still holding onto his shirt. “I want you to kiss me. Or I’ll be double cursed.”

“You’ll be what?”

“Mistletoe,” I mumbled, or at least that’s what I wanted to say. Not exactly sure what came out.

Clyde looked up at the branch tied with red string, and exhaled loudly. “Tomorrow,” he said. “Let me take you home now.”

“I don’t wanna go home.” I sounded like a pathetic child even to my ears, but I couldn’t fight the pout that was forming on my lips. “I wanna stay.” I sniffled loudly, making an effort to hold back tears. “It’s the bloody mistletoe’s fault,” I grumbled, throwing it a death glare. The weed just dangled in the wind, unfazed. “It’s the fucking mistletoe’s fault!” I yelled at it. “If it weren’t for that fucking thing I would have had a good month, and a nice evening and maybe I’d have the courage to ask you for a dance and not make a fool of myself. But I already fucked everything up. I fucked up at work, I fucked up tonight. I am still fucking up!” I ranted, letting everything flow out of me like a can of Pepsi that’s been shaken way too long. “And all because of that fucking mistletoe.” 

I never considered myself a very smart person, but I always thought that I had the basic common sense not to make a complete fool of myself. Well, that wasn’t my night, to say the least. I definitely wasn’t thinking straight the moment I grabbed onto Clyde’s shoulders, placed one foot under me on the railing and pushed myself up. I held my balance long enough to almost touch the mistletoe above me, but then my shoe slipped on the damp wood and I fell. It didn’t feel like slow motion, my life didn’t flash before my eyes: one moment I was trying to grasp the plant and the other I had fallen backwards in a pile of freshly shoveled snow. 

That was the moment any hint of self control I still had left flew out the window and I started to sob hysterically, my palms pressed over my eyes in an effort to make the world around me disappear. All the tension, the negative thoughts, the stress that had built up inside me for weeks, nothing was holding them back and they just poured out of me in the shape of hitched sobs. I was shaking. Embedded in the snow like the most pathetic snow angel in existence. 

Clyde was by my side in a second, but for a couple of minutes I had no idea what he was saying, his voice covered by my sobs. Eventually, I calmed down enough for him to pry my hands away and make me look at him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked in a soft voice. I nodded unable to speak just yet. “Did you hurt yourself?”

“No,” I forced myself to vocalize, but it came out like a whine. “I’m fine.”

“Let me help you out of the snow.”

“Just let me die here in peace. Alone.” Of course it was an overreaction, I had no wish to die, but my inebriated brain had flipped on the drama switch, so here I was, the Drama Queen, in all my whiny glory. 

“I’m not gonna let you… I’m not gonna let you lay here.” He sat down in the snow besides me and I tried hiding my tear stained face behind my fingers once again, but he wouldn’t let me. He was incredibly gentle when he placed a warm hand on my cheek, wiping a few tears away. I sniffled loudly, but that didn’t seem to make him want to take his hand away. “You said you’d let me take care of you,” he said, his voice so calming in my moment of borderline hysteria. “I have to make sure you’re alright. But I can’t do that if you don’t let me,” he whispered, brushing his thumb along my cheekbone in a soothing motion. “Will you let me take care of you? Please?”

My tears still wouldn’t stop flowing, but at least I wasn’t sobbing anymore. “Yes,” I mumbled. “I’ll need help getting up.”

“I got you.” 

He effortlessly pulled me out of the snow, making sure his coat was still wrapped around me when he carried me to his car and strapped me in the passenger seat. I didn’t feel like arguing anymore, so I let him do that he wanted, without protest. We were both silent the whole drive. I had finally managed to stop crying about a mile into the way, but the heat inside the car was making my head feel foggy and incredibly heavy. 

The world was spinning pretty badly when I got out of the car in front of my place, and Clyde had to hold me so I wouldn’t slip on the icy steps. He unlocked the door for me, because I wasn’t able to shove the key into the lock on my own, and guided me to the living room, where I collapsed on the couch. He took off my shoes—something I was incredibly grateful for, because I wasn’t sure I could bend down to take them off—and then tried to move me to my bedroom. I vehemently refused.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” I said, my eyes closing despite my best efforts. “I don’t deserve a bed. I’m a mess.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I am,” I lamented. “I made a fool of myself in front of you, the last person I wanted to see me like this.”

“Why? Don’t you trust me?” I opened one eye and looked at him. He was standing in front of me looking rather dejected. He had wet spots on his shirt, from laying with me in the snow, I assumed. 

“No, you silly,” I said, poking at his thigh with my bare foot. “I trust you with my life. I just… I wanted you to like me. But then what the fuck is there to like? I’m so shit you’d be much better off without me.”

“That’s not true. I…”

“Then you keep having to save me because I’m cursed or some shit,” I cut him off, because the Pandora’s Box had been opened once again. I felt him sit on the couch next to me, in an effort to give me some comfort. “Would have died in the snow weren’t for you, alone and miserable like I deserve. And you’ve been avoiding me all month and I was so worried you didn’t want… to… talk to me anymore.” My breathing was hitched and I was ugly crying once again. I tried wiping the tears off my face but to no avail. Clyde pulled me closer, letting me cry in his shirt, and I buried my face in his shoulder. “And I wanted to talk to you tonight and say that I’m sorry for being weird, and maybe tell you that I like you a lot, but you kept running away and then you kissed someone else and didn’t wanna kiss me.”

“What? When did I kiss anyone else?”

“Mistletoe,” I mumbled the cursed word and Clyde cupped my face, lifting my chin to look at him. 

“I didn’t kiss anyone, not tonight, not in a long time,” he said, his words slow and heavy. I nodded in reply, and looked away, ashamed of my outburst. I knew it wasn’t my business who he kissed, but it hurt. “Look at me. If you want me to kiss you, all you have to do is ask. Tomorrow. I’ll even bring you mistletoe to try and lift the curse.” He passed his fingers through my hair and I leaned into his touch. “Okay?”

“Okay,” I said, still pouting. “Do you really think that would make them go away, though?”

“Yeah, I think so. I mean, Earl said to give them what they want, and I think this is what they want.”

“Hm,” I mumbled. “I guess it makes sense. But why does it only affect me? Doesn’t it take two to tango? Cha-cha, tap dance… no tap dance.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they think you’re special.”

“I’m not special, you’re special. And very handsome. Both of you.” I giggled, because I was already seeing double, something that was very funny, it seemed. “I’m gonna go pee now.” I got up, swaying a little before using Clyde’s shoulders to regain my balance. “Be right back.”

My living room was incredibly hot and stuffy, or at least that’s how I felt it, so I opened a window before going to the bathroom. The cold air made me feel a little better. My cute outfit had become incredibly uncomfortable as hours passed, so I peeled it off while sitting on the toilet. It was ruined anyway: wet from falling into she snow, stained by something that looked like cookie frosting and smelling like alcohol. It was probably my whole being that stank, but I didn’t have the energy to shower. I’d hate myself in the morning, but I’d hate myself either way. 

I took off my bra before returning to the living room, feeling a lot better now that the clasp wasn’t biting into my skin anymore. Clyde had brought me a pillow and a couple of blankets from my bedroom and now the couch looked really inviting. 

“Thank you,” I said crawling under the blankets. “Will you sleep with me?” I mumbled, lifting the blanket a little to make him some space. 

Clyde was frozen into place, looking at me open mouthed, his face so red I was sure it’d glow in the dark. It took him a minute to snap out of the daze, and I was already dozing off. 

“I have to go back to the party,” he said, and I only had the power to groan. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.” I nodded and felt something warm pressing onto my forehead. “Where can I find you a t-shirt?”

“I don’t want a t-shirt, I want sleep. And cuddles.” Eventually, I felt a shirt being pulled over my head after which I collapsed back onto the pillow. “Leave the window open,” I mumbled before falling asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better later than never, they say... It's finally done. Hope you guys enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all the feedback, you were lovely <3
> 
> Million thanks to Llexeh, who puts up with my moods and complaining and everything, and loving me nonetheless; and to the R1 discord server, the most supportive people in the world. 
> 
> Rating gone up, tags added.

[ ](https://ibb.co/mBPXpxn)

Art By[@formerly-anonhamster](https://formerly-anonhamster.tumblr.com/)

The worst thing about getting mindlessly drunk is the moment when your mind decides to return to your body the next morning. 

I woke up at the break of dawn, because that seemed to be my punishment: to wake up hungover and early, so I would have more time to suffer. I crawled to the edge of the couch, sitting with my head in my hands for a few long minutes, before I was even able to look around. My head was pounding with ferocity, and my stomach seemed to live a life of its own, on a rollercoaster, I assumed. I wasn’t quite sure why I was in the living room, why everything hurt and why I was only dressed in underwear and a t-shirt, but I had a feeling I deserved it. As my head became less foggy, the memories started coming back in waves, each of them hitting me like a freight train. Oh, boy, did I fuck up. 

I lifted my head a little and looked around. I remembered the party, I remembered getting drunk. Pathetically drunk. My skin crawled every time I recalled saying or doing something, especially to Clyde. I hid my face in my palms once again, shame washing over me, seeping deep into my soul. I had really done it this time. Everything that happened during this cursed month would have been excusable, I could always blame it on being tired and busy and faeries, everything but this. This was on me and me alone.

I groaned audibly and if I weren’t this dehydrated I would have probably started crying. Instead, I grabbed a pillow and whined pitifully in it until I felt like I was losing my voice. I kept my face hidden in the pillow for a while, but I couldn’t fight the shame. When I grew tired of whining I tried standing up and walking to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water, but my head was spinning violently, and had to hold onto the back of the couch until I could regain my balance. I clasped a hand over my mouth and forced myself not to vomit. Eventually, I managed to reach the kitchen. 

The cold water did miracles to my incredibly dry mouth, but it couldn’t wash away the bitterness. I’d cried in front of Clyde, making a complete fool of myself; and not only did I cry, but I also confessed to him in the worst way possible, with snot probably running down my chin. I was convinced he wouldn’t want to see me again after that, which might be a good thing, because I sure as hell knew I couldn’t handle meeting him again. I would have to send my resignation along with my apologies by email, and them move to another state. 

I was so disgusted with what I’d done that I forced myself to shower even if I could barely stand. I had to lean on the wall to keep my balance as I let the water run over me, hoping that it would be able to wash away all the bad memories. At least a couple of them. But I knew that wasn’t happening, so I just sobbed in the shower until I was once again out of tears and then I scrubbed until my skin was glowing red. 

Eventually I got out of the shower feeling just as miserable, but at least smelling like a person and not a garbage can. I avoided looking in any mirror, because I wasn’t sure I could stand seeing myself. I brushed my teeth and cleansed my face, hoping all traces of makeup were gone. I didn’t want to imagine what I looked like to Clyde: wet, drunk, with makeup smudged all over my tear stained face. My stomach did another double flip and I ran to the toilet, but there was nothing for me to vomit. 

I changed into some clean clothes and walked around the house aimlessly. I hadn't planned on doing anything productive, apart from cooking dinner and stuffing my face with cookies—it was Christmas after all—but now even being alive seemed like so much effort. I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat anything for a while, so at least I tried to rehydrate myself. I opened a window to let some fresh air in and remembered asking Clyde to leave one open last night. I was really glad he hadn’t, because otherwise I would have frozen during the night. He also closed all the blinds so the sun wouldn’t wake me up. I smiled because I realized once again how much I loved this man and his careful nature. And how did I repay him? By making him take care of drunk me. What a joy.

When I returned to the living room I noticed a pile of neatly folded clothes on the coffee table. Those were the clothes I had thrown on the floor after stripping and walking almost naked in front of Clyde. I felt my whole face catch fire, my eyes widening at the realization of what I had done. I grabbed them and shoved them in the hamper, without throwing them a second glance. 

I collapsed onto the couch, hiding my head under a pillow, hoping that somehow the Gods would be merciful enough to let me forget. No such luck though, as I couldn’t help wondering what Clyde must have thought about me, especially after I had come onto him earlier that hight. I kept imagining him having to clean up after I’d fallen asleep. If it were anyone else in his place I was sure they would have left me in the snow when I started crying. But not Clyde. He would never abandon anyone that needed his help, even if that would inconvenience him. He pulled me out of the snow and took me home in the middle of his own party, not caring that I was wet and miserable and soaking his leather car seats. 

I felt like such a disgrace. After all he’d done for me, I couldn’t even make sure I didn’t get drunk at his party, so he could enjoy it without having to take care of me. I hated myself so much. I knew that one day I would have to face him and apologize, genuinely apologize. Hopefully he wouldn’t hate me so much that he won’t want to see me at all. But at least it wouldn’t be today. Christmas day would be the day I would fester in my own shame, alone, and undisturbed. 

The knock on the door woke me up with a jolt. I had no idea when I’d fallen asleep, but I felt just as dizzy and sluggish as before. I groaned and turned to the other side. I wasn’t expecting anyone and I really didn’t want to deal whomever it was anyway, so I just ignored it, hoping they would go away. I let out a sigh when the knocking stopped, and got ready to go back to sleep, but then I heard the door open and my heart stopped. 

I jumped upright, ready to grab the nearest blunt object, when Clyde entered the living room. 

“How did you get in?” I said, my hand still on the table lamp. 

“Umm… you gave me your keys last night,” he said, showing me the ones he was holding. “You told me to let myself in, in case you were still sleeping, so I could check up on you. I didn’t mean to intrude…” He looked incredibly awkward, keeping his distance, like he’d done something he wasn’t supposed to. “I’ll go now. I brought your car, parked it in the driveway,” he said, placing both sets of keys on a side table before heading for the door.

“Wait,” I said, before he got to leave. While I wasn’t in the mood to face him right then and there, I couldn’t just let him leave and make him feel unwelcomed, not after he’d gone through the pain of getting my car and coming to check up on me. I owed him that much. “It’s okay, it’s just that my memory is a little foggy. I don’t remember everything that happened last night. Anyway, thank you for coming to check up on me and I’m terribly sorry for last night. And sorry for the mess,” I said, quickly folding the blanket and throwing it on the back of the couch to make a little space. “Take a seat, I’ll get us something to drink.” I bolted to the kitchen before he had time to protest. 

Of course he’d come to check on me. I was stupid to believe that he would just leave me alone after the stunt I had pulled last night. And although I was really thankful for his care and for bringing me my car back, I definitely wasn’t ready to talk to him already. My head was still pounding, my stomach was doing a double flip every time I saw something that reminded me of the party—or just Christmas in general—and I hadn’t really thought about how I was going to apologize. Of course, I could pretend I didn’t remember anything, which would save at least a little bit of my dignity, but Clyde didn’t deserve that. He deserved a heartfelt apology for every stupid thing I’d done last night, and then some. 

When I returned to the living room with a couple of glasses, some soda and a plate of cookies, I was already nervously biting my lips. Clyde had taken a seat on an armchair so I sat on the couch, as far away from him as possible without being weird. There were a couple of moments of awkward silence as I poured the drinks and tried to think of what to say. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, breaking the silence. I could feel his gaze on me, following my every move, but I avoided making eye contact as much as possible. I was too ashamed to look him in the eye.

“Good, good,” I said, taking a sip of soda. My stomach didn’t appreciate it. “Actually I feel like shit, but I’m not dead, and I deserve it.” I smiled bitterly. 

“No, don’t talk like that.”

“Oh, come on Clyde, I do deserve divine punishment.” I laughed, but it sounded humourless. I kept my eyes down as I spoke. “Listen, I’m really, really sorry for what happened last night. Fuck it, I didn’t mean to get so drunk that I couldn’t control myself, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Sorry for putting you in the awkward position of having to carry me home.”

“I didn’t carry you home. I just gave you a lift.”

I laughed. The first genuine laugh of the day. He had such an endearing innocence that never ceased to make me smile. 

“Yeah, that’s right, you gave me a lift,” I said, a smile still playing on my lips. “After you dug me out of the snow and listened to me babble nonsense while ugly crying…” I covered my eyes with the palms of my hands, my cheeks burning in shame. I didn’t wanna think about all the shit I’d done, but I had no choice. “And then… I… you had to clean up after me.” I didn’t have the courage to admit to undressing in front of him, I still couldn’t believe that it happened in the first place. 

“It’s okay, I…”

“No, it’s not,” I cut him off. “It’s not okay. I know you’re so nice and want me to feel better, but I don’t. I fucked up big time yesterday and I regret everything I’ve said and done. I wish I could just turn back time and stay home so that none of this would have happened, but I guess I can’t do that, so we’re here now.” I could feel tears pricking my eyes again and tried wiping them as discreetly as possible. 

“Everything?” he asked, and I looked up to see a sad expression on his face. 

“What?”

“Do you really regret everything you’ve said to me?” It was his turn to look down and force the words to come out of his mouth. “Did you say it just because you were drunk?” The last part was a mere whisper, like he was afraid of saying it out loud. 

It took me a minute to realize what he was referring to, and it almost knocked the air out of me when I did. “No, of course not,” I said, and he lifted his eyes to look at me. He still seemed worried. “Of course not,” I repeated with a little more conviction, looking down at my shaking hands. “I said a lot of shit last night, fueled by the alcohol, but I don’t regret everything. I mean, I wish I hadn't said it, and especially not like that, but that doesn't mean that I don’t feel it.” Despite my outburst, my voice still trailed off at the end. I didn’t want to lie about my feelings for him, but it was bad enough that I was ashamed and hungover and I had to live with the shit I’d done for the rest of my life; a formal and undisputable rejection on top of it all was just what I needed to completely break me. 

“Would you take it all back if you could?” 

“No, but I wish I’d done it differently.”

“Did you mean it, though?” he asked, and the question hurt deeply. I lifted my eyes to look at him, and I could feel a frown forming between my brows. I didn’t like where this was going. “Or did you just say you like me just because you were drunk?”

“Of course I meant it!” I said, my voice surprisingly high pitched and frantic. “What do you think that I just hit on you because I was drunk and horny? If I’d thought for one second that I’d have any chance… that you…” I pointed between him and I because I wasn’t able to put it into words.

“Well, yeah,” he blurted out, and my eyes widened in shock. My heart was beating like it wanted to break out of my chest and my breathing was hitched. I had to get up and pace around the room before I could calm down enough to be able to form coherent sentences again. 

“If I’d ever thought that there was any chance of you returning my feelings, Clyde,” I said, forcing the words to come out of my mouth, “I would have spoken up a long time ago.” I had my back turned to him, still shaking, arms crossed over my chest in an effort to hold myself together. 

“Would you say it to me anyway?” 

“What?” I turned around to look at him. He looked incredibly small in the armchair, hunched over and not his usual tall self. I’d rarely seen him like this, usually after someone mocked him and he’d take a break to calm down. Then you’d see the insecurities weighing him down. I knew those were the times he needed space, so I left him alone, while making sure to drop all my drinks in the lap of whomever had been rude. The cleaning up and the broken glasses were usually worth it. 

But now he wasn’t hiding in a dark corner, he was right there in front of me, looking absolutely terrified.

“I like you, Clyde Logan,” I said, after a few more moments of silently trying to get my thoughts in order. “I’ve liked you for quite some time, but I didn’t have the courage to tell you. What if you didn’t like me and our friendship would be ruined just because I had a stupid crush on you. And then the faeries happened and… I wanted to talk to you before the party, to tell you and maybe try and make it less awkward between us, but there were too many people and then at the party people kept stealing you away and… And I got drunk.” I was still standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking down when I felt Clyde’s arms pull me into an embrace. I let my head rest on his chest. He still had his coat on and he smelled like snow. “And it’s all because of the bloody mistletoe,” I sighed. “I really regret not kissing you properly back then, it would have saved us a lot of annoyance.”

“Why didn’t you do it?”

“Because Earl was leering at us. I didn’t want to kiss you in front of him, he would have made fun of me. Well, he made fun of me either way,” I snorted.

“Is that the only reason?”

I looked up at him. He was studying me with curious eyes, as if he was trying to figure out what I was thinking. “Why did you think I didn’t wanna kiss you?”

“I don’t know…” he said, and I could see him becoming flustered. “I just thought you didn’t like me like that… So I tried giving you space.”

Right. So we were two idiots in this story. Served us right. I started laughing, burying my face in his shirt. “Nothing we can do about that now.”

“We could try again?” 

I was completely taken by surprise, my mouth hanging open as I looked up at him. He wasn’t avoiding my gaze, but looking directly into my soul, and I could feel my cheeks starting to burn. At least his blush was matching mine. 

“But there’s no mistletoe,” I said, like an absolute dumb fuck. I really hoped my stupidity didn’t ruin my second chance at a kiss.

“Oh, I have some,” he said, letting go of me and frantically looking through his coat pockets. “Somewhere.” I couldn’t stop giggling, watching him turn his pockets inside out, more panicked with every passing second. “Ah, found it!” he said, pulling a piece of mistletoe out of an inside pocket. I laughed out loud as he was handing me the small, battered branch tied with a red ribbon. “Could you please tie it to the lamp or something?”

I looked up. “Yeah, I could tie it to the lamp, but I can’t reach it, lemme get a… aaaaaaah!” Clyde had placed an arm under my butt and lifted me up in the air, high enough to reach the lamp. “AAAH! Don’t drop me Logan or I’ll curse you to always burn your bacon!” I yelled, as he tried to hold me as stable as possible as I grabbed the lamp. My hangover vertigo wasn’t helping at all. 

“That’s okay, I love burnt bacon.”

“Really?” I asked looking down at him, which was a bad idea since the world started spinning. “I didn’t know that.”

I finally managed to tie the string with my really clumsy fingers and Clyde swaying slowly with me in his arms, trying to make up for my lack of balance. I didn’t even care if he dropped me, spending the rest of my time off in the hospital would be a good excuse to not have to see anyone, especially the ones that had seen me drunk at the party. Oh, gods, the shame.

I was still laughing when he put me down, his hand still on the small of my back, not letting me get away from him. I grabbed him by the lapels of his coat and pulled him into a kiss. 

“Finally,” I whispered, before crashing my lips onto his, desperately grabbing onto his shoulders for support. 

We both needed each other like we needed air. It didn't matter that we were a little clumsy and much too eager to explore each other’s mouths to be able to move completely in sync. Our teeth were clashing on occasion, his facial hair was a little prickly, but his lips on mine were the best thing that had happened to me all month. We were kissing like the world was ending and this was out last chance at smushing our faces together. 

I only let go when I was afraid we’d turn blue from the lack of air, and even then I still held onto his neck. “I hope the faeries are satisfied,” I said looking up at the branch. We were both pretty flustered and out of breath, but I hadn’t seen Clyde smile as brightly in a long time. 

“I'm not,” Clyde deadpanned, and I laughed as he pulled me back into a heated kiss. 

It felt pretty unreal to be kissing him. I had to pull away from time to time just to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming, that he was real and kissing me, and it wasn’t just the most elaborate faerie prank to date. But he was there, standing in my living room looking slightly dazed and just as eager as I was to share our first actual mistletoe kiss. Well, kisses. A batch of. 

Unfortunately, I was still pretty hungover so I had to lie down on the couch because standing too long was making me dizzy. The adrenaline, the thrill, and the lack of air weren’t helping either. But luckily I managed to drag Clyde with me, after discarding his coat on the floor. There wasn’t nearly enough space on the couch for the both of us, but it didn’t matter, we were very happy to be all over each other. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, trying to be considerate and give me space, something I didn’t really want. 

“Like I’ve been run over by a train,” I said, pulling him closer, until he lay on the pillow next to me. 

“I should make you something to eat,” he offered attempting to get up, but I pulled him back and planted a long kiss on his already flushed lips. 

“I don’t think I can eat anything right now,” I said, passing my fingers through his hair. “I can barely stand up properly. I’d rather just lie here with you a little longer, if you’ve got nowhere else to be.”

“I’ve got no other plans,” he said, and I smiled, relieved. “I could bring you breakfast in bed if you’d like.”

I couldn’t help but giggle at his efforts to be helpful. “Later, okay?” I said, holding his face between my palms and kissing the tip of his nose. He looked like an overgrown teddy bear just waiting to be loved. “I’m sorry I got shitfaced and acted like an idiot yesterday.”

“It’s okay. I have a feeling we wouldn’t be here today if you hadn’t,” he said, turning his head to kiss the inside of my palm. 

“You might be right.” I still couldn’t come to terms with the dumb shit I’d done and I had a feeling I’d be cringing when thinking about it for a long time, but hopefully in a few years the story would become old enough to seem funny. Clyde didn’t let me dwell on it too much, placing kiss after kiss on my jaw, until I wasn’t thinking about anything else besides his lips on my skin. 

The mistletoe was quickly forgotten as I pulled him on top of me, latching my feet around his waist to keep him close. It was awkward and a bit uncomfortable but I didn’t care. I ached for him to hold me close to his chest, after so many months of just wondering what it would feel like. And it felt good. His lips left a burning trail of kisses on my neck, nipping at the skin and making me moan his name. 

It didn’t take long for my fingers to find their way under his shirt, caressing the hot skin underneath. Clyde was leaning into my touch, so I pressed myself against him, grinding onto his crotch. I could feel his erection through his jeans and I was happy to know that his arousal matched mine.

He held me close and lifted me up, sitting me onto his lap. The world around me started spinning violently once again, and I had to close my eyes and fall back on the pillow to try and make it stop. 

“Okay, okay I got it!” I said to myself, pressing my palms over my face. “No sudden movements.”

“I’m so sorry,” I heard Clyde say, and when I opened my eyes he was already pacing around the room. “I didn’t realize… I forgot…”

“It’s okay, I forgot I was hungover too for a moment,” I laughed, the world slowly going back to its normal, non spinning state. “I guess we’ll have to take it easy today.”

“Yeah, right…” he said, passing a hand through his hair. “I’ll go make you something to eat.”

I smiled. “Slowing down doesn’t mean stopping completely, Clyde,” I said, extending a hand and inviting him back. “I am pretty sure there’s still a lot we can do without… bouncing around or anything.” He seemed really uncertain, but he still took a seat next to me, slowly as if he was afraid he’d hurt me. “I’m not made of glass, you know.”

“I know, I know… Glass isn’t as beautiful.”

I felt all the blood that had drained from my cheeks as I’d gotten dizzy return all at once. “I’m a mess,” I said, covering my face, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“You’re a beautiful mess,” he replied, kissing my fingers before prying them one by one from my face. “But I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t,” I said, cupping his cheeks and kissing him softly on his full lips. “I know you won’t.”

He was a little hesitant at first, his kisses slower and softer than before, his touch a lot more careful when he slipped his hand under my top. It still felt almost electric when he brushed his fingers over my breasts, teasingly slow and almost featherlight. I was tempted to urge him to move a little faster and give me what I wanted, but I also enjoyed the languid kisses that made me burn with desire. 

He slowly pushed my top over my head, leaving me half naked under his gaze. He looked at me with a slightly dazed smile on his face that sent tingles down my spine and gave me goosebumps. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, tracing the curve of my breast with the tips of his fingers. I shivered under his touch, sucking in a breath. 

“You’ve seen it all last night,” I said, looking away in embarrassment. 

“That wasn’t really for me,” he said, still looking at me, brushing his fingers over hy hot skin. “This is for me.”

“I think that, at least subconsciously, that was for you too. I’ve never spontaneously stripped in front of anyone else before.” I laughed to hide my embarrassment, but I wasn’t that mortified by it anymore. If I’d know he would look at me like this, I would have put up a show for him last night. I was drunk enough to try, at least. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, pressing another kiss on my lips. 

I pressed my hands to the front of his shirt, feeling his muscles shift under the clothes. “I think it’s only fair that I get to undress you in return,” I said against his lips and he nodded, too busy tasting my mouth to even try to make words. 

I slowly unbuttoned his shirt, dragging my fingers over the fabric from one button to the other. I’d never seen him naked before, not even shirtless, so I was really looking forward to this. To feel his skin under my fingers. I took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. He sat up and diligently lifted his arms, letting me pull his undershirt off. 

I looked him up and down. He was so beautiful, my mind refused to form any coherent thoughts, so I just stared at him, awestruck. I splayed my fingers over his naked skin, feeling him shiver at the touch, taking in the sensation of finally touching him. He somehow looked even more massive now that he was shirtless in front of me, his frame almost engulfing me. I caressed his broad shoulders, placing kiss after kiss on the beauty marks dotting his skin. There were so many and I wanted to see them all, touch them all and kiss every single one. The scars too. I hadn’t known until that moment, just how many scars were scattered across his fair skin. 

He pulled me closer to his chest, and I pressed myself against his naked skin, my nipples rubbing against his chest, sending a rush of pleasure though my body. I kissed along his collarbone and he caressed my naked back, his hand going lower and eventually slipping it under the waistband of my sweatpants, grabbing a handful of my ass. I gasped and clung to him even harder, claiming his lips once again, allowing him to knead my flesh between his fingers. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked when we broke for air, pointing to his prosthesis. 

“Of course.” I had never seen him whouth it, and I knew it was a delicate subject. Over time, I’d gotten used to it so much that I didn’t really notice it anymore, but I was very happy he was willing to show that sort of vulnerability in front of me. “May I help?”

He nodded and guided my hands, showing me how to unfasten the clasps. I followed his guidance with shaky hands and eventually his arm was free from the prosthesis. 

He took it out of my hands and just dropped it on the floor. “So this is it,” he said, looking at his own amputated arm. “Is it weird?”

“You’re beautiful,” I said, falling down against the pillows and pulling him on top of me. 

He was a lot less awkward after that, actually using both his arms to hold me or sustain his weight. I wasn’t getting the feeling that he was trying to hide it from me like he usually did, so didn’t ignore it anymore either. I brushed the tips of my fingers over the scar and gently kissed what I could reach. He shuddered under my touch, but didn’t shy away, tilting my chin to kiss me deeply.

Now my hands were free to explore his body, caressing his naked skin and going over the strained fabric of his jeans. He moaned when I pressed the palm of my hand over his bulge and bit the skin on my neck a little harder. I was sure that would leave a mark and somehow that thrilled me. I wanted my skin to bear the signs of his love.

I fumbled a little with the belt before I managed to unbutton his jeans and pull out his cock. Clyde sighed, relieved that he was finally freed from the confines of his jeans and moaned my name as I took him in my hand, slowly and teasingly stroking his length. I kissed him hard, pouring into one kiss all of my unspoken feelings. He replied with the same passion, nipping at my lips and rolling his hips trying to get more friction. 

He stopped me before he finished, pulling both my hands above my head and taking a moment to look at me. There was a sort of longing in his eye that I’d never seen before, but it sent a shiver down my spine. 

“Will you let me take care of you?” he whispered, his voice low and a little hoarse. 

I nodded, unable to speak, but I hoped he could tell how much I wanted him to. He pressed kiss after kiss along my jaw and down my neck, sucking on the skin on my collarbones, leaving his mark. He let go of my wrists, but I was frozen in place, totally under his control, sucking in shallow breaths every time he found a sensitive spot. He cupped one of my breasts, brushing his thumb over my already hardened nipple. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered, tilting his chin to look at me before closing his mouth over my other nipple. I moaned loudly, suddenly finding my voice as he sucked gently, and pressed my thighs together, aching for any sort of contact. I was in a daze as he played with my breasts, flicking his tongue and massaging the flesh, making my head spin with pleasure. “Are you still with me?” he asked, before kissing down my abdomen. I moaned a ‘yes’ in reply, looking at him play with the band of my sweatpants. “May I?” 

I nodded and lifted my hips to help him slip them off. I was already dripping wet and I was ready to beg for him to just touch me. But I waited patiently as he positioned himself between my legs and just looked at me for a moment. I’d dreamt for so long that he would one day look at me like that, with a sort of awe in his eyes, like I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. I couldn’t help but smile, my heart threatening to break out of my chest, as he started kissing down my thigh. 

I gasped when he finally touched me, parting my lips and giving a tentative lick. If I was aroused before, I was now almost shaking with desire. He lifted his eyes to look at me as he tasted me, sucking gently on my clit before letting his tongue go down. I moaned his name when he used a finger to enter me, and then another, quickly settling into a rhythm that I knew would soon bring me over the edge. At this point I wasn’t thinking straight anymore, my eyes closed shut and biting the back of my hand to stifle my cries of pleasure. I kept moving my hips to meet his hand, almost grinding my crotch all over his face, but he didn’t seemed to mind, and instead picked up the pace. 

I came with a gasp, my whole body tensing under the power of the orgasm. My vision blurred for a second and I was so lightheaded I thought I’d faint. Not that I actually gave a shit at that point, I was so blissfully gone. 

It took me a few moments to come down from my orgasm, and Clyde patiently waited between my legs, idly kissing the inside of my thigh. I had to admit, Clyde Logan between my legs was quite a sight, with his ruffled hair and breathing heavily. I giggled dumbly and extended my arms, inviting him back. 

“I have to say, I’ll take any sort of faerie abuse for a kiss like that.”

He smiled as he laid on his side next to me, squished together on the too small couch. “Was it okay?” he asked, and he looked really shy for a second. 

“It was more than just okay,” I told him, wiping a trace of well, me, from his beard and kissing him repeatedly on his flushed lips. “Now let me pay you back,” I said as seductively as I could.

He smiled and kissed my temple. “Another time,” he said against my skin. “You better rest, I don’t want you to feel worse because of me.” And so I was reminded that I was still hungover and it wasn’t a lot I could do without becoming violently ill. 

“Well, there must be something that I could do for you,” I whispered, pressing my hand over his bulge. I slipped my hand into his jeans and took his cock out once again. He was still hard and so hot against the skin of my hand, dripping precum in anticipation. “I also want to take care of you, even if I can’t have you fuck my brains out right now, I still want you,” I said, moving my hand up and down his shaft. 

I considered teasing him a little, drawing out this moment as long as I could because honestly, I didn’t want it to be over. I loved his moans, and the needy kisses, and gasps of pleasure whenever I managed to hit just the right spot. I wanted to keep him for myself, just like this, lost in his own pleasure. But I wasn’t going to be that selfish. 

Clyde sucked in a quick breath and closed his eyes as I started moving faster and with more intent. He pulled me closer to his chest and shifted a little to give me better access. He looked transfixed, completely lost, erratically pumping back into my hand. His breathing was hitched, skin covered with a thin layer of sweat. I smiled like an idiot and tangled my free hand into his damp hair, kissing him repeatedly as he sighed on my lips. 

He came all over my stomach, covering my already burning skin in hot cum. He collapsed next to me, breathing heavily, looking at me with an unfocused gaze. I brushed a few strands of damp hair from his face and kissed him on the cheek.

“I made a mess,” he said, once he seemed to once again regain full control of his body. 

I looked filthy with his cum splattered all over my stomach, and I absolutely loved it. “It’s alright. I have to clean everything anyway,” I said, as he got up to grab a tissue from the table. He frowned at the Christmas pattern on it before resigning and starting to clean me up. “Festive.” I giggled and his face broke into a lazy smile. 

He threw away the crumpled tissue and sat back besides me. I picked his shirt from the floor and put it on. To my surprise, it seemed to be the one I had worn before, when I had doused myself in champagne. “Can I steal this?” I asked, tying it around my waist, not bothering to button it up so my boobs were still pretty much on display. 

“Yeah,” he said, softly tracing with his fingers the exposed part of my cleavage. “I love it when you wear my shirt.”

“Is that why you insisted I change back then?” I said, laying on top of him, placing a few scattered kisses down his sternum. 

“No.” He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. I like it better now though.”

“Me too,” I said, kissing him as he pulled a blanked on top of us both. “I might steal it more often.”

I fell asleep almost immediately, nestled in his arms, with a satisfied smile still on my lips. For the first time in a while I was feeling relaxed and at peace, the stress of the real world forgotten for a while. The only thing that mattered was the man laying besides me on my small living room couch. 

I woke up a little while later, to the delicious smell of bacon. To my surprise, my stomach seemed to agree with me for the first time that day, grumbling in excitement and not disgust. I fished my underwear from the mess of clothes and blankets on the couch and hurried to the kitchen. 

“Whatever you’re making smells great,” I said, joining Clyde. 

“Did I wake you?” I shook my head and smiled. “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah. A bit hungry.”

He was cooking shirtless, something I’d never thought I would ever get to see, so I just stood there in the doorway, admiring the view. He had no belt on and his jeans were hanging low, and his back, oh heavens, was that a beautiful back. I walked up to him and snaked my arms around his waist, leaving a trail of kisses on his shoulder blade. 

“You know it’s dangerous to cook like this,” I said, placing my hands protectively on his pecks. “In case there’s still some residual faerie magic at stake. I don’t want you to get any burns because of me.”

“You were sleeping on my clothes,” he said, hanging his head in embarrassment, his cheeks starting to redden. “I didn’t want to wake you…”

“Don’t get me wrong, I 100% approve of this,” I said, sweeping my hands over his naked skin, “but I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. I should sleep on your clothes more often though.”

“I’d like you to wear my clothes more often,” he said looking at me over his shoulder. 

“Really?” I said, smiling cheekily at him. “And why would I be needing your clothes?” 

He laughed and blushed even harder, and I rested my head on his back as he was cooking the last pieces of bacon. It still felt a bit unreal having him in my kitchen, making me brunch after a night of heavy drinking. I had no idea how and why it happened, especially since I expected him to never want to see me again after the disaster the night before. But this must have been one of those Christmas miracles people liked to make movies about. 

A drop of hot oil on the back of my hand woke me up from daydreaming. “Fuck!” I yelped, pulling my hands back. “Oh no, fuck you faeries! Not today! Gimme a kiss to make them go away,” I said, putting up my arms like a sloth that wanted cuddles. 

“But there’s no mistletoe,” he said, bowing down to place kiss after kiss on my lips. 

“Fuck the mistletoe, I just want kisses!” I laughed, holding onto his shoulders, puckering my lips, asking for more kisses. This would have easily turned into a full blown make out session, but we also didn’t want to completely burn the bacon. So Clyde diligently went back to cooking while I leaned on the counter next to him.

“So…” he said, adding the remainder of the bacon to an already full plate. “Have you decided what you’re gonna do today?”

“Yeah,” I said, stealing a piece of bacon from the plate and munching on it. “Gonna stay home and watch Netflix. Want to join me?”

“Don’t you want to spend Christmas with your friends instead?”

“Already texted them that I’m too hungover to go out.” I laughed, but the feeling of dread was back once again. “Listen, Clyde, I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday. I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk.”

“Don’t be,” he said, but I looked down. I knew I was probably annoying him with all the apologies, but I wanted him to know how sorry I really was. “Do you know what I usually do for Christmas?” he continued, looking down at the pan. “I drink until I forget what day it is.” He wasn’t looking at me, his face hidden behind a curtain of dark hair and my heart sunk. But then he tilted his head to look at me and he was smiling. “But now I have someone to spend it with. I really don’t care what happened yesterday, or last month or last year.”

I grinned from ear to ear and pulled him into another kiss. All in all, even with my stupidity, it seemed like it was going to be a good Christmas. “You are always welcome to spend Christmas or any other day with me. Also, you can get drunk on my couch if you like to keep the tradition alive.”

He laughed. “I don’t really feel like drinking.”

“Haha, after last night, me neither. Anyway, I’ll go shower while you cook the eggs, is that okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, smiling back at me. 

“I won’t take long. There’s a hot dude in my kitchen cooking delicious food for me.” He laughed and was even cuter than before. “Drinks in the fridge, the rest you can figure out,” I said before leaving. 

It ended up being a very good day, despite the odds. We ate, then we moved to the living room with snacks and drinks. Watched some stupid tv shows, made out on the couch for a while, napped a little bit. Showered together and ended up exploring more than washing, but none of us complained. It was pretty late when we finally decided to get into bed. 

Clyde was stark naked when he entered the bedroom—I had no clothes that fit him and to be honest, I actually didn’t mind the view—carrying something in his hand. 

“I know I was the one that said no gifts,” he said laying next to me on the bed, “but I got you something anyway.”

“What a coincidence. Me too.” I laughed. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, let me find it.” I was pretty sure Clyde was checking out my ass as I was looking through the drawers, because his cheeks had a familiar pink tint when I returned. “Who goes first?”

“Uhhh… It’s nothing special,” he said, fiddling with the little box between his fingers before handing it to me. “Just something small I thought you’d like. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it.”

“I’ll like it,” I said with conviction. It could be the ugliest thing on Earth and I’d still love it because it was from him. But luckily it wasn’t something ugly. It was a simple bracelet, with a single, dainty fairy charm attached to it. “Oh, I love it,” I said, pulling it out of the box. It looked expensive and classy, glimmering in the poor light coming from the bedside lamp. 

“I’d put it on, but…” he pointed to his missing arm, sadness taking over his features. 

“If you hold that end, and I take this one, we can both do it,” I said, handing him one side of the chain. His hand was steadier than mine, and after a couple of misses and giggles I managed to clasp it. “There we go! It’s so beautiful… Thank you.” 

He smiled a shy smile, leaning against my pillow and I almost forgot about presents. He was the only thing I’d wanted for Christmas, and his smile made me more happy than a million trinkets could. I cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead, before remembering that I also had a present for him. 

“This one is nothing special,” I said as he was ripping the wrapping paper. “I just thought you’d use it. Would have been fun at the party, but we’d said no gifts so I held onto it. Actually it’s better that you didn’t have it at the party, I don’t really need any tangible evidence…” I mumbled to myself, making Clyde laugh at me. 

“A camera!” he said, pulling out the ugliest lime green camera in existence. 

“It’s a sort of polaroid. A modern one, prints the pictures instantly. I actually wanted to get you an original Polaroid, a vintage one, but those may be a bit unreliable at times and the parts are pretty expensive and hard to find… anyway, I thought you’d like it. Excuse the colour. They were out of the black ones.” 

“I like it,” he said, studying it. It looked tiny in his big hand, like a toy camera and I couldn’t help but giggle. 

“I already loaded film into it, it should work,” I said, turning it on and snapping a picture of us both. The camera made a whirring sound and pushed out a picture. “Wow,” I said, looking at it with wide eyes. Clyde had his face in the crook of my neck, stifling a laughter. “I forgot we were naked.”

“It’s a good first picture,” he said, still laughing. “I’ll keep it in my wallet.”

“Don’t even think about it, Clyde Logan. It’s not leaving the house.” He pouted comically and I couldn’t help but kiss his pout, something I’d wanted to do so many times before. “But you’re invited to visit it as often as you want. Also the original.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Anytime you want,” I said, placing the camera on the nightstand and crawling on top of him. We quickly forgot about the camera and gifts and faeries and everything else, besides each other. 

He did visit pretty often after that Christmas we spent together, and we took plenty of pictures together, some of them still hanging around the bar. 

To this day I still don’t know, and I think I never will be 100% sure if faeries exist, if I was really cursed or it it was just a bad month for me. Most of the time I think it was just a combination of having a crush on Clyde, long hours and paranoia, but there are days when I’d once again feel like I’m cursed. Days when nothing works and frustration brings me close to a breaking point. But I’ll just drop everything and take a break and kiss Clyde twice—one for the faeries and once for myself—rest my head on his shoulder as he’ll whisper encouraging words in my ear and I’ll be back on track in no time. 

I still place offerings on the windowsill from time to time, just to make sure. They disappear in a couple of days, so the faeries either like what I’m giving them, or I’m making some magpies really happy. Clyde laughs at me, but I caught him a couple of times adding more berries in the shrine. He just shrugged and smiled at me. 

It’s been quite some time since that Christmas party, and as I hoped, the story has aged enough for me to be able to tell it and laugh at it without cringing. It’s always the most requested story at Christmas parties and any family get together, and it’s one of Clyde’s favourite stories ever. I’ve reached a point where I have fun telling it too. 

The story of the Christmas I’d gotten cursed by faeries into confessing to the man I love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked it! If you did, consider leaving me a kudos, a comment or dropping me a line on [Tumblr @joeybelle](http://joeybelle.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter @njoeythesilence](https://twitter.com/njoeythesilence). Also you could check my other works too, who knows, you might find something you like XD.  
> Cheers, Joey <3


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